


2Breeder: Android -> Thick Baby-Factory Corruption Project

by Tas_tan



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: /ss/, Blowjob Face, Corruption, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Excessive Semen, F/M, FaceFucking, Fat Ass, Oral Creampie, Physical Alteration, Sloppy, Vaginal, ass-slapping, musk, onee/shota, throatfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: The dynamic between a very strict and sisterly 2B and a 9S understandably prone to staring at the constant wobbling of her ass (among other sexual assets) is turned on its head upon their discovery of an abandoned machine factory whilst on Earth. Disabled during his investigation of the factory, 9S' body is altered to inflict thorough sexual corruption and exaggeration onto any/all female androids he comes into contact with.Well acquainted with one such android, his escape from the facility sees him adopt a purpose very different from the one that he was made for: altering the body of his older superior into an exaggerated masturbation toy and inseminating her while he's at it.
Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

To suggest that traversing an uninhabitable wasteland is somehow worthwhile is to suggest that doing so may avail an experience or resource that validates the investment (time, effort, etc) tied to the undertaking. Typically, if one takes up such a position of their own volition, they do so prepared in advance to present relevant examples of what sort of experience or resource might be gained by doing so.

Throughout the centuries that encapsulated humanity’s ‘prime’, providing such examples was considered by most as an exercise of imagination. Vast, colorful, and largely free from danger provided preparations were made in advance, the wastelands of Earth were once viewed by its dominant species as locations to be explored and savored whilst conditions on the planet facilitated their existence. Thus, those willing to present exploration as something to be invested in needed only appeal to the sense of leisure and wonder uniformly installed within the human species to substantiate their arguments.

Presently, this is no longer the case. Nearer than ever to extinction and dispossessed of the planet of their birth, an informed individual could safely assert that a human both willing to (and capable of) traversing the machine-infested remains of their home planet no longer exists.

Presuming one did exist, nothing of value would await them there. Save the ruins of their ancestors’ societies and the crippling dissonance evoked by their ruination, such an expedition would sooner rob a human of something than it would provide anything of value.

By necessity, the same cannot be said of the humanoid androids of YoRHa. Whether placed on Earth for warfare against the machines or small-scale missions against their regime, the time that they spend within the wastelands of Earth is perceived by them as time well spent regardless of how it is applied.

For the vast majority of the androids, this is purely a result of their programming. To serve humanity by any means necessary (in this case traversing hostile environments) is ‘worthwhile’ to them by definition.

Amongst an ever-dwindling minority of them, the ‘value’ in doing so is much more nuanced. Driven less so by their programming and more so by some ubiquitous quality inherited from their human creators, they embrace the landscapes they are plunged into as paths to achieving a personal purpose.

Molded by his circumstance, YoRHa unit 9S embraced his dispatch to Earth as one massively prolonged excuse to stare at the succulent excess of synthetic fat and flesh tacked onto his Battler counterpart’s rear. While dutiful and efficient in the tasks assigned to him, the satisfaction that he derived from aiding 2B in the missions assigned to them (and in the process contributing to the survival of the resistance) paled in comparison to what he derived from being able to follow her from behind for several hours a day.

Throughout these hours, his thoughts were split between the perpetual wobble of the pale, rounded, leotard-parted throw-cushions and what he might do to them given the opportunity. Both cheeks modelled past parity with the scale of a globe and softened with fat such that even the slightest motion from their sprint-prone owner set them into a vigorous fit of jiggling, missing them from underneath the fluttering backside of her dress would have required him to willfully ignore the obvious—a cardinal sin for any self-respecting scanner unit.

Presented with such perverse excess as attached to a woman unwilling to entertain even the slightest sexual comment about it, constant observation of 2B’s ass charged his thoughts with adolescent yearnings appropriate for the frame that he maintained. Far less committed to the physical and mental protocols affixed to every operational android, 9S regularly imagined what his older counterpart’s ass might feel like against his palms, his crotch, and during instances of intense desperation, even his face. Separately, when unburdened by the requirements of a task, his affinity for her frame resulted in him entertaining more elaborate scenarios focused on slovenly intercourse with 2B in a variety of forms.

Without a means of ridding himself of these thoughts or a desire to cease taking in the stimuli responsible for their creation, 9S facilitated a progressive augmentation of his behavior by their persistence within him.

At times, these thoughts manifested themselves as attempts at physical and emotional affection that 2B’s rigidity with regards to protocol rendered purposeless. Each one he delivered was met with mechanical reproach, and a firm, almost sisterly reminder of the importance of their emotionless efficiency as androids.

Largely unaware of her companion’s internal state, 2B produced these in hopes of deterring her younger companion and correcting his behavior without punishing him for what she presumed to be ‘liberties’ taken in his programming. That the softness within her approach might eventually lead to 9S expressing himself more blatantly was irrelevant to her; no matter how flippant or distracted, his commitment to their cause struck her as no less fervent than her own.

When 9S’ already-loose tongue did in fact adopt the occasional comment about the make of her frame, she allowed these to ‘slide’ as well. Strictly speaking, she had no choice. Doing otherwise required information about 9S that she did not have, and refused to inquire about lest her doing so tempt him to further breaches of protocol.

In her unwillingness to firmly rebuke her companion was the female android’s only fault. By sidestepping his advances in this manner—this without doing anything about the feminine puffiness her frame maintained—2B unknowingly worsened her subordinate’s frustrations by the day.

With time, this circumstance altered 9S’ personal purpose for a second time. Whereas he once found contentment on Earth in his opportunities to savor 2B’s body, he soon began to view the time that he spent there as a long-winded path towards a single goal:

Somehow making 2B view him in the same wildly perverse manner he viewed her…

-

**DESERT METROPOLIS—WESTERN NORTH AMERICA, EARTH**

At the very edge of a cliff of cragged, orange-shaded rock plastered at its peak with a thin veneer of greenery stood 2B and 9S. Set directly beside one another and mutually consumed by investigatory silence, the black-clad androids scanned a seemingly endless sea of massive stone basins surrounded at their edges by cliffs similar to the one beneath their feet in search of motion and heat signatures indicative of hostile machines.

More adept at this task by virtue of his construction, 9S completed several kilometers worth of preliminary sweeping after only a minute’s investment in the task. With his formal work behind him, he refocused his attention on the site that had prompted the investigation in the first place. At the dead center of a basin only a kilometer or so ahead of their perch was a dilapidated structure reminiscent of the numerous abandoned machine factories the two of them had encountered throughout their time on Earth. Thus far devoid of the machine presence required to confirm its identity, he trained his senses on it in its entirety in search of something that might be used to determine its purpose.

Yet again, the effort that he invested in this proved for naught. Just as had been the case prior to 2B’s arrival at his side, his distanced surveying of the area failed to reap anything more detailed than basic structural information and ground temperature.

Upon recognizing this, 9S threw up his hands and abandoned the effort entirely.

“Well, figures. Trying to infer the contents of a structure like that from this distance was bound to be a waste of time.” he exhaled, wearily. “Either nothing is in there, or it’s something so unimportant that the machines just abandoned it. The only way to know for sure is to go and have a look.”

Initially, these words found 2B wordless and otherwise occupied. Internally, 9S’ reiterating the fact that his eyes were better than hers filled her with a frustration that she required an additional handful of seconds to conceal. After working past it, the nothingness presented to her within the target basin and the area surrounding it prompted her to weigh her options and devise a plan of action.

Pragmatic even in times of personal frustration, this plan disregarded the mandates of her thinned emotions in favor of adherence to an optimal approach. Some seconds after 9S’ comment, she effortlessly shifted her posture to divulge its contents to him in the form of orders.

Upon doing so, she found 9S a step or so behind his original standing position in the midst of yet another dedicated sideways glance at the fertile protrusion of her hips and the pale bloat of her buttocks.

Unsurprised and mildly exasperated, recognition of this drew her into exhalation, and later affixed a flat admonishment for the youth onto the address she had planned.

“…Unwelcomed observation of your fellow androids is a breach of standard protocol, 9S.” started 2B. “I fail to see what about my frame warrants so much attention from you, but I will ask you again to refrain from doing so in excess.”

Per usual, the ‘norm’ from 2B evoked more or the same from 9S. Grinning playfully, he returned to his original standing position and produced a wistful exhalation of his own.

“I’ll try my best, but there’s not much I can do when a lot of my field of vision is consumed by ass f—”

Unwilling to hear her juvenile companion finish his sentence, 2B abbreviated it without the slightest alteration to her earlier tone.

“Thank you, 9S. As long as you understand and make efforts to refrain from this behavior in the future, we no longer need to discuss the subject.” she retorted, face still devoid of even the beginnings of a smile. “Regarding our approach towards that structure, I have to admit your assessment is likely correct. Learning anything more about what we’re looking at won’t be possible from this distance.”

“Since it currently appears to be uninhabited, you will approach ahead of me and engage in reconnaissance. You seem to have a habit of forgetting what this means at times, so I’ll stress that engaging with encountered hostiles is strictly prohibited. Your safety is more important than anything we might learn about the structure.”

“I will remain within range of the structure’s periphery while you conduct your investigation. If anything out of the ordinary happens, contact me immediately. Understood?”

Having taken 2B’s latest stoppage of his ‘fun’ in stride, the directions that she outlined hit 9S’ ears as all of her others did. Behind a short nod, he threw his arms up into a lackadaisical curling behind his head, and from here began circling his way across the edge of the cliff towards a slope that his legs were capable of traversing.

“Fine, fine. It’s not like I’m much good in a fight anyway.” amidst his move, the steps that he took were accompanied by a formal response to 2B’s address. “I think it would make more sense for you to come in with me if you’re planning to neutralize whatever I encounter yourself, but that’s just me thinking aloud, y’know?”

Upon arrival at the beginnings of the slope he was to descend from, 9S stopped, and turned his torso in search of one final look at 2B’s frame. Noting that she had followed along behind him (likely with the intention of making sure his path of descent was safe), he used her presence as an excuse to take in the sight of her from the front. As usual, this included a tracing of his line of sight across abdominal indentations that bled through the midsection of her dress (taught oblique framing that trailed into her crotch line), and the slightest linger of his gaze at the fertile sharpness visible at the peak of her hips.

Well before he could be called out for defying protocol for a second time, he ceased his staring, and smiled.

“Anyway, I’ll notify you as soon as I’m finished with my sweep. Until then, you stay nice and comfy on that massive butt you’re lugging around, alright?”

Knowing what he would earn for this comment, 9S jumped from the slope immediately after these words left his lips to deafen himself to 2B’s chastisement.

In the end, he still managed to catch part of it. Sharp as his plummet appeared, it was not so brisk as to prevent the echo of a reproachful “Do not assume that I won’t contact headquarters to have you reeducated!” from reaching his ears before he made contact with the ground…

-

**THE WONDERS OF EARTH**

9S required only 15 minutes to properly infiltrate the abandoned structure. After his descent from the cliff, his experience traversing the terrain of Earth and the physical techniques written into him by his creators carried him through a swift and silent clearance of the distance that separated him from his destination. Immovable in his focus, the sprinting, leaping, crouching, and climbing required for him to actively clear the cragged pathways his eyes mapped out were for him no different than a leisurely stroll through the unknown.

Preoccupation with his partner’s physical assets was not an excuse for sloppiness—no matter how simplistic the task set out for him. Months prior, the extent of his infatuation required that he remind himself of this on a daily basis in order to maintain the support standards that 2B required to fulfill her own role. Wise enough to do so prior to setting out, flipping his internal switch and functioning as directed became his primary focus the moment his feet made contact with the base of the cliff.

All the same, his secondary focus remained on 2B. His approach was made no less masterful as a result, but its duration was spent by him ruminating on thoughts entirely unrelated to the task that he was completing.

These thoughts were not especially prudent, either.

“I reeeeeally wish she’d look at herself in a mirror before saying the things that she does. It’d be one thing if she was complaining about me looking if her body was shaped normally, but the fact that she still thinks that she has a standard chassis doesn’t make any sense.” he thought, wearily.

“She’s really only a step or two down from Commander White. Plus, she’s way less scary, so of course I’m going to have trouble ignoring what she looks like.”

“I understand that the way I’m thinking about this defies my purpose—I’m willing to accept that. All I want in return is for her to recognize that her walking around the way she does makes it a lot harder for me to want to do anything other than clog her insides with semen.”

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Especially since she doesn’t seem to have any interest in actually having it happen…”

Believing himself to be rightfully incensed, 9S’ harmless daydreaming continued through his assaying of the structure’s exterior, and eventually bled into his infiltration of what appeared to be its primary entrance.

In both cases, the quality of his work remained unaffected by his preoccupation. Upon closer observation, it became apparent to him that the structure was one very similar to those clustered within the ruined metropolis within the desert’s center. Sized and shaped in mimicry of a centuries-antiquated rectangular warehouse structure, the metallic black homogeneity of its exterior and the infrequent distribution of garage-width entrance ways built into it all but confirmed its construction by the machines or their alien progenitors.

As neither of the two had appeared to greet him throughout his survey, he followed up his initial sweep with infiltration. Deft even in this, he selected a particularly dilapidated side entrance at the building’s west end as his point of entry and burst through it without an excess of noise or motion.

Inside, only silence and darkness sat in wait to greet him. Unsurprised all the same, he momentarily delayed a final scan of the structure’s interior to blow air out of his lungs as a child sent on a fool’s errand.

“Would you look at that: another empty factory.” he lamented. “2B’s going to love this—if she let’s me get a word in between all of her scolding.”

“On to the next one I gu—”

The instant that 9S shifted his attention towards the future, the present punished him for his preoccupation. In the midst of turning on his heels, the darkness ahead of him sprang to life. Taking on the weight and shape of several gargantuan tendrils no more distinct than darkness itself, a trio of the inky masses assaulted his frame in sequence with one another.

The first enveloped his ankle. Unpadded and metallic, its contact with his flesh refuted its existence as solidified darkness and confirmed it as a mechanical appendage obscured by the absence of light within the factory.

The second and third struck before he could think to alert 2B. As if aware of the agreement struck between them, the second squarely walloped the back of his skull whilst the third coiled a fraction of its length around the lower half of his face.

In an instant, the debt 9S incurred for a moment’s negligence within the machine-infested wastelands of Earth was paid in full.

All that it cost him was a slow descent into unconsciousness, and an even slower consumption of his frame into the same darkness he had scoffed at.

-

**MACHINE FACTORY—INTERNALS**

_—REPROD.UNIT PRODUCTION FACILITY FIRMWARE STANDARD 1.01_

_…LAST RECORDED FIRMWARE UPDATE OCCURRED ON JUNE 4 TH 7418\. IN LIEU OF TO DATE FIRMWARE DATA, FACTORY STANDARD PROCESSES WILL PROCEED ACCORDING TO CURRENT FIRMWARE BUILD._

_…SYNTHETIC CHASSIS DETECTED. NOW INITIALIZING FACTORY STANDARD ORGAN & APPENDAGE RETROFITTING PROCEDURE._

_…ARTIFICIAL CONSCIOUSNESS UNIT “9S” DETECTED. REQUESTING PERMISSIONS TO PROCEED – PLEASE INPUT ‘HELP’ FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION._

**_“HELP.”_ **

\- As its name implies, the purpose of the Reprod.Unit Production Facility is the mass production and retrofitting of mechanical chassis for optimal mechanical reproduction in the case of female frames, and breeding in the case of males. Following deactivation or partial destruction during combat, the humanoid android combatants utilized by YoHRa may be reprogrammed and repurposed within this location. **NOTE** : Consciousness alterations standards are presently not up to date—only physical alterations are available.

… _INPUT ‘YES’ IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO PROCEED. **NOTE** : INPUTTING ‘NO’ WILL SUBMIT THE CURRENT CHASSIS TO FACTORY STANDARD PROCESSES._

**_“…”_ **

**_“YES”_ **

****

_…ORGAN AND APPENDAGE RETROFITTING PROCESS INITIATED. PLEASE STANDBY FOR FURTHER NOTIFICATIONS._

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

_…ORGAN & APPENDAGE RETROFITTING PROCESS COMPLETED. DAMAGE TO CHASSIS MINIMIZED AT 4.5%. NOW DOWNLOADING CHANGELIST INTO ARTIFICIAL CONSCIOUSNESS CORE._

_…DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. NOW COMMENCING REITERATION._

\- The current chassis designated as ‘9S’ has received upgrades to better facilitate the insemination of female chassis with the required information and catalysts for synthetic reproduction. The detected 7-inch length, 2 inch girth phallus has been replaced with a standard 13 inch length, 3.5 girth phallus composed of the same synthetic composition as the chassis’ flesh. The newly upgraded phallus maintains a perpetual sheen of organic sweat, grease, and fabricated pheromones intended to be narcotic to unaltered female android frames. Texture upgrades to the current phallus include: fattening of glans proportional to ‘9S’ chassis fist whilst at full erection, trailing of thumb-width blood vessels from underneath uncut glans down along the opposing sides of phallus leading into portly zig-zag compressions near its root, engorgement of testicles from walnut scale to ripe peach scale, root-girth engorgement of urethral bisection of phallus flesh, supplementation of root bisection with comparable blood vessel branches across phallus surface area.

\- The current chassis designated as ‘9S’ has received upgrades to its reproductive cells. Synthetic sperm cell production, accompanying neural modifiers, chassis reconstruction catalysts, and semen/nutrient volumes have each been multiple 10x. **NOTE** : Repeated ingestion and/or internal exposure to the cells in their current state will render standard female chassis as unfit for combat within approximately 21 days. Accompanying side effects excluding female chassis reconstruction include hyper-sensitivity to stimulation, enhanced receptiveness to artificial cells, improved fertility, and the replacement of combat protocols with subroutines of the designated chassis’ choosing. Please take this into consideration when selecting breeding pairs.

_…CHANGELIST REITERATION COMPLETE. PROCEEDING WITH CONSCIOUS MODIFICATION PLAN DEFINED WITHIN FIRMWARE VERSION 1.01._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_…NO CONSCIOUSNESS MODIFICATION PLAN DETECTED. PROCEEDING WITH PAIR DEFINITION AND FINAL CLEAN UP._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_…NO PAIR DATA AVAILABLE. FIRMWARE VERSION 1.01 ALLOWS FOR TEMPORARY PAIR CANDIDATE TO BE SELECTED FROM ARTIFICIAL CONSCIOUS UNIT. **NOTE** : IF UNCHANGED BY A FRESH RETROFITTING CYCLE, THIS WILL BE PERMANENT. TO PROCEED WITH ARTIFICIAL CONSCIOUSNESS SELECTION, INPUT ‘YES’._

_“ **YES** ”_

_…NOW PROCEEDING WITH PAIR DEFINITION. PLEASE STANDBY FOR FURTHER NOTIFICATIONS._

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

**_._ **

****

**_…_ ** _PAIR DEFINITION COMPLETE. FEMALE UNIT “2B” DEFINED AS FEMALE BREEDING PARTNER. IF UNAVAILABLE FOR FACTORY RETROFIT, FACTORY STANDARDS CAN BE ACHIEVED THROUGH CONTINUED EXPOSURE TO UNIT “9S”._

_…FACTORY STANDARD PROCESSES PER FIRMWARE VERSION 1.01 COMPLETE. NOW INITIATING CHASSIS RESTORATION PROCEDURES; PLEASE STANDBY FOR FURTHER NOTIFICATION…_

-

**MACHINE FACTORY—RUINED OUTSKIRTS**

By nature, 2B was a woman prone to worrying. Whereas her mind framed this worrying as an extension of her pragmatism, those around her—namely the scanner android placed under her supervision—assessed it for what it was: undue concern expressed towards each and every instance of variance she encountered throughout her time on Earth.

9S’ tardiness returning from the abandoned structure they had located was merely the latest ‘item’ on an ever-growing list of these instances. After descending from the cliff behind him and tailing his approach from a safe follow-distance, 2B took up a ready position within the ruins of a building several hundred meters away from the structure’s exterior.

Here, she took up waiting. Focus split between the passage of time and the sights and sounds associated with the structure, she silently observed her surroundings in expectation of 9S’ prompt return from his investigation.

No such prompt return occurred. One full minute after the 15 she had allotted for him, 9S’ frame did not appear from out of any of the entrance angles she had marked across the structure’s exterior.

Believing herself to be ‘reasonable’ (in spite of the reality of her stubbornness), 2B restrained herself throughout the initial seconds following this minute. 9S’ lackadaisical approach to his tasks and the manner in which they had parted company were suggested by her psyche as possible explanations for his tardiness—explanations reasonable enough to dissuade her from worrying.

They did precisely this. During the minute that followed the first, 2B resumed waiting without producing a single postulation as to what was responsible for her subordinate’s slowness.

Then, the third minute came.

Readying her frame for combat, 2B abandoned her noisy pacing through the ruined structure surrounding her and burst forward.

As she did, she worried.

“Why did I consent to sending him in there alone? Why do I do these things to myself?” She lamented. “There may be a brand of machine in there capable of concealing itself. For that matter, there may be several. Faced with the unknown, airing on the side of caution is always better than taking risks.”

“So why? Why did I choose his fulfillment over his safety? Why am I such a poor superior to him at times?”

“Perhaps I’m the one that needs reeducating by headquarters…”

Somber in spite of her sprint, these thoughts crossed 2B’s mind straight as she erupted from the gaping hole of stone and cement that served as the entrance way to her cover area. Once through it, she immediately prepared her frame for a top speed sprint across the open area that separated her from the structure. After turning towards it, she extended her front leg forward, and finally selected her weapon of choice from the inventory idling at her back.

But then, she stopped.

Fractions of a second before she could take off, a sensation recognizable as an index finger tapping at the edge of her shoulder turned her forward momentum backwards. Whipping around on her heels, she immediately readied both hands at the hilt of her weapon in preparation to gore whatever monstrosity had invaded her personal space.

Such was her readiness to serve her purpose that upon being presented with the adolescent frame she had set off in search of, her weapon nearly slipped from her grasp altogether.

“Whoops, almost missed you. You’re still a total worrywart when it comes to stuff like this, huh 2B?” 9S began, words completely ‘on brand’ with his usual candor. “It’s nice that you feel concern for me, but it’s not always necessary. I was gone for, what, 20 minutes or something? I don’t think that warrants you jumping into combat mode so readily, but you’re the battle android, I guess.”

“Anyway, I’m back. Want to hear my report, or were you planning on checking the place out yourself?”

As soon as her senses caught them, the sound of 9S’ voice and the sight of his unharmed frame disarmed 2B in a manner that few other things could. Swelled with a watered-down semblance of relief, her loosened grip on the sword hilt between her palms and the stupefied expression on her face persisted for several seconds after he finished speaking.

For as much as she decried displays of emotion, her opinion on the subject did little to mitigate the relief that she derived from his safety.

Perhaps the only saving grace of her response was the speed at which she recovered from it. Approximately 5 seconds after losing herself, 2B returned in full force. With this, she discarded her weapon, and crossed her arms underneath her bust in a display of authoritative discontent.

At least she believed that she did. In reality, though, what she projected was far closer to familial concern in quality.

“…I’d like that very much, 9S.” she replied, flatly. “Any number of things can happen when mission itineraries are not followed. Delays are to be expected, but that does not excuse you from your failure to communicate what held you up.”

“These situations are both concerning and difficult for me to manage as your superior. Please explain yourself in full.”

Undaunted, 9S met his superior’s quiet fury with an anxious chuckle and a roll of his shoulders. Recognizing extreme discontentment in 2B was no longer difficult for him, but at the same time, her presentations of this discontentment never failed assail his heartstrings with feelings of adoration.

Consequentially, his response to her request endured a minor delay whilst he attempted to stifle his grinning.

“Abouuuuut that…” beginning mildly, his right hand engaged in a tepid rub at the back of his skull as he spoke. “Believe it or not, what held me up was actually related to protocol. A little while after I started, headquarters contacted me about upgrade resources within the factory and suggested that I have them applied before continuing. It was a pretty quick process, but it took me a little while to get used to my body again afterwards.” he explained.

“It’s actually something that I’m going to need your help with, so if you want, I can sh—”

“What’re you talking about? That’s impossible.” 2B snapped. “I received no notification from headquarters about you needing upgrades. Even if it was a sudden request, they would have notified me as well.”

“Tch, never mind. Show me this ‘upgrade’ you’ve received. If it’s non-standard, we’ll need to contact Commander White immediately about having you repaired.”

Much to his surprise, 2B’s interrupting him did not push 9S very far off of the ‘course’ he had intended for their conversation. Acceptant of, and almost mildly entertained by her skepticism, he shrugged his shoulders amidst uttering a jovial “Sure thing.” in response to her demand.

Subsequently, he dropped his hands down past the partitioned fringes of his tunic, then curled them upward and in towards contact with the hem of his shorts. Straight-faced throughout, his palms arrival at their target positions saw him drag the garment down through a brisk descent across his boyish thighs and calves until its waistline fell out of contact with his lower body.

Partway through his removal of the garment, something fell from them. Freed from its bundled compression at his crotch, a semi-erect loaf of gleaming, sweat-greased phallus flesh flopped out into an imposing hang ahead of his crotch. Owning a softball-sized helmet of glans flesh reddened by the strain placed on the skin at its tip and a smooth satchel of peach-sized testicles just beneath its root, the still-growing organ’s attachment to his crotch seemed then as a misplacement of breeding instruments between a slight adolescence and an impossibly-virile male.

Unchanged by its exposure, 9S was quick to suggest that this was not the case. With his right hand, he enveloped the majority of the sex-scented organ’s girth within his palm, then applied his wrist to draw his embrace up and down its greasy beginnings without a single stutter of unfamiliarity.

As it turned out, his goal in this was an acceleration of the organ’s fattening with his blood. Upon perking it up towards its peak, all of the attention that he devoted to himself was turned back towards 2B.

Incidentally, this shift also coincided with the anxious grin spread across his lips being replaced by one of confidence.

“I have no idea why changes to my reproductive organs would be necessary, but this is what I got. Apparently, I’ve been outfitted this way with the remodeling of female androids in mind—whatever that’s supposed to mean.” he explained.

“Before you interrupted me, I was also going to mention that you’ve been designated as the female android who’ll be taking care of the maintenance tasks related to my upgrades from now on. In case you're curious, the tasks are kinda similar to the stuff you’ve complained about me mentioning before. You know, from when humanity still had things like semen-dumpsters and meat-toilets.” he continued.

“There are a whole bunch of them that are necessary, but I’ll be around to guide you through them, so it shouldn’t be a problem. To be honest, headquarters told me to notify you of this and get some maintenance done as soon as possible, too…”

Now grinning from ear to ear, 9S intentionally delayed the conclusion of his response to ensure that 2B was looking at him as he spoke.

Upon making out a coalescence of embarrassment and incredulity within her features, he completed his utterance as though he hadn’t seen anything at all.

“No better time than the present, right?”

For the first time that she could recall since pairing with 9S, 2B found herself without words. Pale facial features flushed to a becoming shade of pink and lips slightly parted with incredulity, her processing of the ‘report’ that 9S provided alongside its throbbing, vein-riddled product submitted her to what little feminine instinct persisted within her.

Android or no, males were not supposed to undress themselves in front of females. Similarly, male androids sized as 9S was had no need for such large and…sharply-scented reproductive organs.

Succinctly, nothing about the scene that she was presented with added up within her mind. Partly as a result of the discomfort it evoked within her, but more so in fear of the blended haze of semen-stench and pheromone-laden sweat that billowed from 9S’ new organ, 2B reacted to the absence of ‘sense’ within her reality per the mandates of her protocol.

Without another thought, she called for help.

“P-Pod 042, please contact Commander White. Inform her that there is an emergency and that I must speak with her IMMEDIATELY.” she stammered.

Thus far forgotten in the latest exploratory exhibition performed by its users, Pod 042 stumbled noisily from its perching atop a nearby plateau of cement in response to 2B’s call. On arrival adjacent to her left ankle, it resumed idling amidst the projection of an audible hiss from its rectangular frame.

Though 2B was responsible for initiating this procedure, 9S adhered to this hiss just as closely as his counterpart. His features and posture did not show it, but the knee jerk reaction selected by 2B came as a genuine surprise to him.

Bound to adhere to whatever conclusion their mutual superior might make, he held his breath in anticipation of the call’s connection.

When it did, all of his attention fell from 2B down to the haughtily authoritative voice funneled through Pod 042’s frame.

“…Well? State your emergency, 2B.” beginning wearily, the voice of a mildly-exasperated Commander White flowed out into the air with a clarity that suggested her presence directly beside them. “As much as I doubt that this is a genuine emergency, I’m still willing to treat this as protocol demands.”

Having waited for this moment, 2B responded immediately.

“Understood. I apologize about the suddenness of this, Commander. I will be as brief as possible.” 2B replied.

“9S has recently received a series of, well, _upgrades_ that were supposedly mandated by headquarters. Apparently, I have been assigned to the regular maintenance of these upgrades, and 9S has been given free reign over determining when and where he receives said maintenance. As I was not notified of 9S requiring or receiving these upgrades beforehand, I thought it necessary to contact you before proceeding further.” she explained.

“Simply, my inquiry is as follows: Were these, ah… _upgrades_ cleared by you prior to their installation? For that matter, am I also required to adhere to 9S’ direction regarding their maintenance?”

By explaining her circumstance as she had, 2B intended to test the foundation of 9S’ argument in search of inconsistencies. If sometimes more rigid than was necessary, their mutual commander was not a woman prone to making mistakes. Further, given that they were dispatched on her orders, the likelihood of her overlooking the application of such significant changes to 9S’ frame was virtually impossible.

Regardless of its shape and implications, she’d know the truth for certain. This in mind, 2B embraced the silence that followed her inquiry in hopes that the confusion that had descended upon her would soon be dispelled by further orders from her superior.

Tragically, not even a second of the time that she spent waiting was applied to preparing herself for what the truth she sought might pertain to.

“ _That’s_ what you called me for? What exactly about a simple physical upgrade is so concerning to you, 2B?”

At the sound of their commander’s retort, 9S’ frame loosened whilst 2B’s tightened.

“I approved that months ago. If it took until now, you two have just been dragging your heels.” she continued. “There’s no reason that 9S’ combat capabilities should be so utterly inferior to your own. Upgrading his constitution will make your job easier in the end, so if anything, you should be celebrating.”

“B-But ma’am, I-I—" stunned for a second time in mere minutes, 2B attempted to interject at her first opportunity.

However, even this came slightly too late.

“What an utter waste of time. Unit 2B is to defer to Unit 9S’ maintenance protocols when and where he deems fit until further notice. Unit 9S’ receipt of his physical upgrades has been recorded into the system as well. I will not be entertaining another call about this—are we clear?”

At this, 9S saw an opportunity unique to his aim.

“Understood, ma’am. Thank you for your time!” he chirped, happily. “I’ll see to it that 2B is properly instructed moving forward. We’ll be able to manage just fine from here on.”

“See to it, 9S. For the glory of mankind.”

With this, the call that 2B initiated came to an end without 2B herself expressing any of her thoughts on its subject. Resigned from its initiation to accept her superior’s judgement, its coincidence with 9S’ explanation left her without recourse.

Regardless of their contents, orders were orders. To defy them was to deny the foundation on which her existence was built. Compared to whatever ‘maintenance’ 9S intended to suggest, such a fate was far more daunting than one spent entertaining the sexual demands of an adolescent.

Upon arrival at this conclusion, 2B found that 9S had moved up from his position ahead of her to one directly beside her. Profile set towards her own in wait for her to recognize his presence, her unwillingness to provide him with the attention that he sought eventually resulted in his speaking out without it.

By the time he finished with his first sentence, her focus was shifted towards him as a matter of necessity.

“Jeez. You’d think she’d just be happy to hear from us sometimes.” 9S began, chuckling. “Anyway, there you have it. We can’t very well go against our orders, so you’ll just have to put up with me from now on. Like I said, I already know a bunch about how to take care of upgrades like this, so that ridiculously fat ass of yours is in good hands.”

“That said…”

Inching forward, he positioned himself ahead of 2B to impose eye-contact with her.

“I don’t appreciate you not trusting me after all we’ve been through. Since even the commander’s confirmed it at this point, I think I’m going to go ahead and record all of our maintenance sessions. That way, if you feel the need to contact her again, **we can send off proof that you’ve been doing your job to the resistance** , too.” he continued, sneering.

“That probably won’t be necessary, though. After all, you’re going to approach your responsibilities as best you can from now on, right?”

An effective rebuttal to 9S’ claims did not exist. There were no faults in his suggestions, and no oversteps of the new boundaries set between them. So far as 2B could tell, 9S had done no more with his utterances than create a framework intended to ensure her compliance.

He had been ordered to—expecting any less was nonsensical.

Thus, for as much as she wished to do otherwise, 2B met his utterances with a nod of approval.

“…Understood. I will defer to your direction from now on, but only where your maintenance is concerned.” she replied. “I cannot control your judgement, but as your superior, I’ll ask that you show modera—”

“Cool, sweet. Now, without further ado, can you go ahead and squat down in front of me? Your thighs should be spread apart, and your face should be right in front of my cock.” 9S interjected. “We’re going to start things off right with something called a ‘disgustingly sloppy vacuum blowjob’. It’s okay if you don’t know what that is; the whole point is for you to ask questions if you need to.”

“Just go ahead and start sucking as you usually would and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

More than anything else, 9S’ interjection made 2B wish to reprimand him for speaking out of turn. Regrettably, his doing so was done for the purpose of stating an order regarding his maintenance.

And orders were order.

“Understood. Should I assume that the stench of semen that coats your phallus is an indication of how much you require my assistance?” she inquired, frustration tinging her words.

“Sure, why not. If it helps, you can think whatever you want while you’re snorting it.” 9S retorted.

“I will, then.”

Provided her ‘orders’, 2B acted on them. In sequence, she dropped down into the squat that 9S recommended, stabbed her skull inwards, and raised her palms up into contact with the smooth exterior of his thighs to brace her torso’s weight against his own. With the stability she garnered from her smaller suitor’s frame, she prolonged her skull’s ingress until the supple, girlish plush of her lips were smashed against, and forced apart by the precum-glazed bloat of 9S’ glans.

Driven even to her detriment, the smearing of flavors ranging from stale semen to the musty grease that glazed his erection’s entirety to her tongue did not stymie her with revulsion. Fighting through her sense’s first contact with a nastily-virile erection, 2B followed up the plugging of her lips with cockmeat with a continuation of her skull’s depression and an application of suction and pressure between her lips and cheeks. Expressionless all the while, she continued with these efforts until nearly half of the 13-inch pipe of phallus flesh her partner maintained had passed through the depraved spread of her lips.

Here, she reassessed her circumstance for a handful of seconds whilst forcing the beginnings of her esophagus to adjust to the phallus bloating its interior and the wriggling, over-bloated blood vessels that had been smothered against its inner lining.

Impressively, the ‘reassessment’ that she managed was rendered no less concrete as a result of this.

“…I may’ve been too arrogant in my approach so far. 9S specifically requested a ‘disgustingly sloppy vacuum blowjob’, but I really have no idea what that is.” she thought to herself. “Accepting his instructions would have been easier, but my arrogance wouldn’t allow me to hand over any more of my freedoms to that grinning face of his.”

Behind an internal exhalation, a vigorous quiver of cockflesh against the roof of her esophagus replaced the frustration she had recollected with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Well, what’s done is done.” exhaling internally, the passage of this thought through the forefront of her mind coincided with the beginning of a mild outflow of mucus from her right nostril and the leakage of dense saliva down across the right edge of her lower lip. “I may be conscripted to participate in his maintenance procedures, but I’m still his superior. I should make sure that I carry myself as such…”

Now sure of herself (if only in regards to her position), 2B emerged from her seconds-long stillness with a sharp backwards tug of her skull. Without so much as a gag or wince throughout her progression, she haggardly dragged the mucus-smeared girth of 9S’ cock out of the beginnings of her gullet until her lips were drawn up to a cutting ‘pinch’ around the midsection of his glans. Then, as if immune to the miasma of semen stench and pheromones she had inhaled throughout her first attempt at engulfing the writhing spire of flesh, she punched her skull inwards to viciously re-skewer her face with its bloat down to a depth just slightly past the midpoint of his length.

This time harried by a welling of mucus within her esophagus and a vibrant overproduction of spittle within her oral cavity, the depression of his shaft coincided with a prolonged discharge of bubbled slop from both corners of her lips, and to a lesser extent, a thickening of the goo earlier discharged from her nostril. Through these things, her lips’ contact with their new stopping point atop the pulsing bloat of the vein systems surrounding 9S’ urethra arrived at the same moment her mouth (and face) assumed their most perverse configurations yet.

Believing herself without an excuse to dawdle, 2B did not allow herself to project the sight of her cock-spread facial features at 9S for long. After noting the abnormal increase in the lubrication produced by her digestive tract, she wrenched her skull backwards for a second time, and soon afterwards transitioned into an aggressively predatory throating of 9S’ member from the nose of his shaft down to her slop-greased stopping point.

Right from the first stroke of her facecunt, neither the ignorance nor inexperience that she believed inherent to her approach played any part in her motions’ quality. Mimicking the retraction she had produced seconds prior, the reeling of her skull that marked the beginning of her pumping found her cheeks drawn concave against the bloat of 9S cock (an adjustment that added moist cheek flesh to the list of ‘compressors’ for his length), and her lips impressed against the cockmeat that passed through them with enough force to compress their steely exteriors.

She did not know it, but these manipulations constituted the ‘vacuum’ aspect of the blowjob that had been requested of her. By sucking inward against the cockmeat that she consumed, a draining pressure was applied to its flesh as though its unruly girth was no different from a drinking straw. Momentarily focused on each individual inch she peeled out of herself, her lips’ arrival at the nose of his shaft saw all her concentration devoted to compressing the drooling bundle of nerves constituted by his glans. As complimented by her lips’ very best attempt at sandwiching the throbbing knob between them (this in spite of the spread forced upon them), there could be no arguing that the android was not approaching this aspect of her task to the letter.

The depressions that followed these retractions were similarly adept. Straight after her lips settled into their garroting suckle against the midsection of 9S’ glans, 2B wasted no time in messily plunging her throat back down across the raging bloat of his erection. By virtue of her vehemence and the disregard that she displayed towards the slime yoked from her guts as a result, each of her plunges was accompanied by a heady *GLURSH♥* noise erupting from her face, and a considerable expulsion of the mixed lubrications within her digestive tract out across 9S’ cock. First in the form of a smearing of muddy slime along the inches of cockflesh that she swallowed, then in the form of stuttered discharges from both her lips and nostrils right as she squeezed herself down to her stopping point, these eruptions seamlessly accounted for the ‘disgustingly sloppy’ aspects of the task that she had been given.

Again, to deny this would have been to deny the obvious. Being a mixture of mucus, saliva, precum, and cocksweat, the slime that 2B skewered out of her face owned a viscosity comparable to a runny glue or a thinned syrup, and a coloration comparable to congested semen. Sluggish splutters of such a substance from her right nostril (splutters that occasionally resulted in the formation of tiny bubbles of slop at the region once completed) and projectile eruptions of it out across the yet-throated lower reaches of 9S’ cock (these coming after a wealth of it was smeared to the inches squeezed into her throat) added a depraved visual appeal to her efforts on par with what might’ve been evoked from the lips between her crotch being split by a similarly obscene loaf of cockflesh.

Utterly unaware of what she had achieved with her ministrations, 2B pushed herself through her ministrations whilst under the assumption that she was failing miserably. Content solely with the fact that she had managed to establish some sort of rhythm, she savagely replicated her skewering and retraction in hopes that her doing so might complete 9S’ maintenance that much sooner. Throughout, she thought nothing of the progressive increase in her ministrations’ ease, and disregarded her indifference towards the sexual stink that weighed down the airspace surrounding 9S’ crotch as her senses adapted to the reality that they had been plunged into. Even the thickened outflow of cuntsyrup from her lower lips out through to innumerable arced spurts into contact with the ground below her—this in spite of the crotch of her leotard persisting where it belonged—failed to register within her mind as something worth focusing on.

Then and there, she desired nothing more than to overcome her insufficiencies and milk out an acceptably-large volume of cockjuice out of her diminutive suitor’s balls.

In her preoccupation with what was now required of her, 2B neglected to inquire about, or even consider the thoughts of the android that she was servicing. Posted indifferently from the beginning of her efforts right through to what he presumed to be their peak, 9S remained a resource from which information about how she was doing could have been drawn well into her execution. Resolved to assist his favorite superior were she willing to swallow her icy pride alongside his cock and place an inquiry as to her progress, everything that she required to make her first attempt at maintenance a success stood ready and waiting for use directly ahead of her.

Yet she refused it. Seemingly committed to following through with her own efforts unless directed otherwise, 9S was in turn denied the opportunity to hear her girlishly uninterested voice stumble through questions along the lines of “Am I doing a good job?” and “Should I do something differently?”.

In place of this, he enjoyed a pleasure so frustratingly efficient that he could not bring himself to complain about it. Without any direction or instruction, the stench of his virility and the changes made to his frame had goaded 2B into producing the very same behavior that he would have demanded of her had she been any less skillful at her task.

For a time, the awe that this evoked within him kept the youth a stagnant, grinning participant in the draining of his member.

Soon enough, though, he arrived at an epiphany:

The dynamic between the two of them was now balanced in his favor. If he wanted something from 2B, getting it from her was as simple as reaching out to take it.

This in mind, 9S plunged his right hand downward. Collecting a fistful of the smooth silver locks atop 2B’s head, he forcibly halted her latest skewering of her throat inches short of its completion so as to drag her lips straight back up into a slop-mired embrace of his glans.

All too familiar with 2B’s legendary fussiness, he used his completion of the gesture as an excuse to address the squatting android before she could begin scowling at him.

“Whew! And here I thought that you’d really suck at sucking your first time around.” he teased, grinning. “I guess it makes sense that you can work your lips and throat like that with how much you like to run your mouth about stuff that doesn’t matter. My personal opinion is that you’re way better at using them this way than you are at talking, so hopefully we can have you do more or this and less of that in the future.”

“Aaaaaaaaanyway….”

“That was pretty great and all, but what you’re doing doesn’t have much variety. You didn’t really ask any questions about how to do a good job at this, so you only really have yourself to blame for missing stuff.” speaking reproachfully in a tone reeking of underlined contentment, 9S stated his perception of her efforts as a matter of fact as opposed to opinion. Whilst speaking, he wiggled her skull to the immediate left and right of his glans to bias the pressure that she applied with her lips from one pocket of nerve endings about the knob to another.

“It’s fine, it’s fine; I forgive you—this is your first time after all.” he added, chuckling. “You’ll have plenty of chances to get things right in the future, so how about I just tell you exactly what you were missing so you can get some practice for next time?”

“To start, you were only using your throat and your lips. The reparative effect you can get from those is pretty high by itself, but it’s **even better** when you apply your tongue as well. You managed to make a really gooey mess of that cocksleeve you call a mouth, so you should have everything you need to give a try.” he explained.

“So, let’s see it! I’ll still be recording juuuust in case, so if you don’t give it your all, I guess we’ll find out what the Commander has to say about your maintenance skills at the same time.”

Dutiful in her attendance to the sound of 9S’ voice right from the moment her ministrations were halted, the latest set of suggestions that the boy produced threaded discomfort across 2B’s cock-skewered features. Her visor obscured the furrowing of her brow from view, but the appearance of a frustrated tightness at her cheeks and a sudden removal of the pressure she applied with her lips made her thoughts on his demands obvious.

Being herself, merely implying her feelings fell well short of the catharsis that 2B required to function. Of her own volition, she disregarded the strength that 9S had placed within his grasp to pop her lips off of his glans entirely.

This done, she put her sex-mired mouth to use as she pleased.

“I will accept any and all instructions moving forward, so there’s no need for you to be snide about this. If you desire something in a particular way, just direct me towards it. You should also consider asking me nicely before you resort to orders. You’ll likely find my results to be of a higher quality that way.”

On completion of her rebuttal, 2B snapped straight into the adjustment that had been requested of her. Engulfing the beginnings of 9S’ cock into her mouth behind a second gluey *PLORP!*, she subsequently descended just far enough down the reeking spire to guide the entirety of his glans into compression by her oral cavity.

With this, the cock-stink that she had huffed into her brain for minutes on end did her work for her. Instructed by its potency, she became of the opinion that the tongue usage 9S had suggested for her would first require another envelopment of his length into the sex-fattened embrace of her esophagus. Thus, her first application of the organ came directly behind the sodden *GLORP* produced as she spiked herself down to the slop-mired ‘spittle-line’ past the midpoint of his cock.

In lieu of more significant options, 2B geared this application towards rotation. First dragging it out from its smothering underneath the grimy underside of 9S’ shaft, she afterwards transitioned into a clockwise curl of the organ around the unruly girth of his shaft. In accordance with her mouth’s inundation with cockflesh, she began with a surface-to-surface scrub of her tongue’s face against the sturdy veins and quivering meat spread across the bottom of his member before rolling her tongue’s underside through a streak across its top half. Making certain to carry a heady volume of throatslop across the pulsing monstrosity whilst pressing fractions of her organ’s squishy warmth against the veins strewn out across its exterior throughout, the completion of her first rotation left a wadded trail of spittle glued to the reddened exterior of his shaft from the beginning of her tongue’s path to its end.

A single successful rotation was all that her musk-addled psyche required to adjust her ministrations further. Amidst executing a second swirl of her tongue, 2B messily dispossessed her throat of 9S’ cock with another retraction of her skull. Smearing fresh throatslop from her innards against his girth as she went, she retreated as far the very tip of his glans before the pressure that she imposed with her mouth demanded that she bloat her neck with cockmeat again sooner rather than later. Having left an erection littered with bubbles of spittle and smears of slop in her wake, the next depression that she produced provided plenty of ‘problem areas’ for her tongue to scrub clean. Nevertheless swift in her next descent down to a half-hilt of 9S’ cock, the swirling grind that she maintained throughout kept flashes of her cherry-red tongue flesh visible right up until she returned to her start position.

Like her unaccompanied throating efforts before them, these ministrations quickly became a part of a mechanical standard for 2B. In spite of her worsened dizziness and the continual funneling of mucus and musk through her nostrils, her disposition facilitated a perfect reproduction of her earlier sucking as complimented by vein-smothering slides of her tongue.

In her mind, no better application for her tongue existed than this. Even after factoring in her inexperience, she felt that 9S was all but certain to enjoy her efforts.

Before she could think to question this thought, exhalations of pleasure spilt from 9S’ lips substantiated her assumptions, and at the same time injected a bizarre satisfaction directly into the feminine organs steaming below her abdominals.

“Yeesh, what’s with you, 2B? Since when are battle androids so good at scrubbing cockmeat with their tongues like this?” he wheezed, jovially. “By the time this is over, the only thing you’ll have to worry about suckling off my cock will be all of the muck you’ve used so far.”

“That should be a no-brainer for a jizz-vacuum like you, right? Either way, I’m really looking forward to it!”

Fundamentally, 2B wished to disagree. Stirred by his words, she began wishing for a means of reaffirming her actual position and reminding 9S of why she had reduced herself of her own volition.

In the midst of this, she didn’t miss a single stroke of her skull. An android through and through, the irrelevance of her wishes and the necessity of her responsibilities ensured that all of her attention remained firmly consumed in the service she was providing to 9S’ cock.

It was necessary—no matter the amount of frustration or inexplicable pleasure that accompanied it.

Believing herself without further adjustments to make, 2B allowed 9S’ comments to drag her consciousness into single-minded devotion towards the cock-spreading her lips. 

In it, she refused to think. More concerned with the *GLURK* noises fucked from her throat and the addictive high drawn up into her sinuses by her huffing, she instead devoted all of her mental energy into repeated indulgence in a volatile cocktail of stimulation.

Like this, the sudden flooring of 9S’ right palm against the back of her skull caught her completely off guard. Informed of the event by the invasive pressure it placed on her esophagus, her gullet’s smooth envelopment of the remaining 6 inches of his shaft and the compression of her lips against the slop-drenched face of his crotch failed to fill her with any of the revulsion she thought part and parcel to the happening.

In that moment, the fact that her body had facilitated it so effortlessly was more concerning to her than the fact that her already-clogged nostrils became plugged with the scent-saturated flesh of 9S’ crotch.

It was as though she wished to be penetrated this way all along—to have the bestial spire of cockflesh 9S had presented to minutes prior rudely punched into complete domination of one of her holes.

Faced with the possibility of such a reality, the address that 9S flung down at her after the fact very nearly missed her ears altogether.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, though. We can’t really talk about how you’re going to clean up until you actually finish, right?” voice only slightly strained by the additional stimulation that consumed his shaft, 9S finished the thought that he had started seconds prior in a manner that revealed his praise of 2B’s efforts as subterfuge. “You’ve got 2/3rds of it now, but I forgot to tell you the most important part…”

“Its _depth_ , 2B. We both know that taking my cock all the way down your throat should’ve been how you started. I mean, look how easily I was able to plunge everything inside you with one hand. That’s what you should be aiming for every time in the future—even if I saw something simple like a ‘blowjob’.”

“Like I said, though, it’s fine. Just let me handle it this time and I’ll just look forward to you doing even better in the future ~.”

As soon as these words slipped past his lips, 9S substantiated his assurance with action. All at once, he exchanged the pressure he applied to the back of her skull with a ruthless wrenching of her lips back up to the tip of his member. Steadfast even as copious splutters of milky throatslop burst out from underneath her lips throughout this retraction, he completed the effort with a reapplication of tension into his right forearm, and a preparatory curling of his crotch.

Only a second later, the full 13-inch bulk of his cock disappeared into the lubricated pleasure-vacuum hidden behind 2B’s lips. With a single thrust from his hips and an inward curl of his crotch, 9S smashed his meat back into the ‘loving’ embrace of padded esophagus flesh swelled from its goring and moistened by its owner’s arousal. Taking care to ensure that 2B’s lips and nostrils were returned to their revolting impressions against his crotch whilst amplifying the force backing them directly behind their impact, he spared no expense in making his second depression as impactful as the first.

This done, he set about fucking his earlier impressions from 2B’s memory entirely. Beginning with a second alleviation of the pressure on the back of her skull, he afterwards resumed his forceful bracing of its position prior to initiating a repeated, ball’s-deep goring of his cock in and out of 2B’s throat.

No less ‘efficient’ than his more rigid companion, his execution of these thrusts embodied all of the slovenly brutality that 2B had displayed and more. The first full extraction of his length that he produced in his thrusting chain wrenched a third of his erection’s length from the compression of her esophagus behind a grossly digestive *SHLORP*. Elated by the sensation of pressurized throat and esophagus flesh being dragged back across his member—specifically the meat of his glans and a handful of inches directly beneath it—the stinging bliss that suggested he blast his load into her stomach immediately became easy enough for him to disregard in comparison. Upon freeing 5 freshly-greased inches of his flesh-log from her innards’ grasp behind a quiet flourish of gunk and a muffled *MMGHLR♥* from her throat, he wasted no time in driving himself straight back down to a humiliatingly-messy hilt within her face.

Recycling this pattern was effortless for him. Retrofitted with boundless sexual experience, he used the stimulation he garnered as motivation to gore 2B’s throat over and over again. His pace never faltered, and on occasion, a boyish flitting of his tongue across the edges of his lips displayed to the ruined world around them precisely how much he was enjoying himself.

Given the nature of the pleasure he accrued for himself, the silence that he displayed during the beginnings of his rutting presented him as far more mechanical than 2B could ever hope to be.

Having subjected 2B’s innards to concentrated bursts of musk, each hilt of his member down her throat—an event that occurred on a per-second basis—induced a fit of oppressive constriction within her esophagus. Programmed more so for functionality than an outright mimicry of their organic counterparts, the repeated spread-and-batter that her depths endured prompted her digestive tract to attempt grinding its invader into submission. Succinctly, every plunge that he managed after her tubing arrived at this decision required that he overcome its best attempt at flattening his cock and ingesting it. With this came an obscene (albeit consistent) stimulation that prompted him to imagine her innards reaching for the semen packed within his crotch, and more prevalently, an added layer of difficulty for his thrusts.

Differently, whilst flicking his crotch outwards, a veritable ‘mixed bag’ of stimuli was thrust at him. On top of the perpetual suction that continually hollowed 2B’s cheeks and the ascending garrote of throat flesh drawn from the root of his cock up to his stopping point, each retraction that 9S managed reproduced visual and auditory stimulation that almost exceeded what her innards provided in terms of visceral appeal. Whether in the form of meaty suspension bridges of throatslop hooked between the meat of his cock and 2B’s mouth (these elongated and compressed in time with his thrusts) or the guttural gulping and squelching yanked from her face throughout his thrusts, the retraction of his crotch never failed to provide some form of pleasure for him to lose himself in.

More potent than any of these experiences was what he derived from the alignment of his gaze. By holding his gaze down at 2B’s face whilst thrusting, he acquired satisfaction for himself in the form of experiences that he had once believed to be restricted to his dreams. These were the sight of her stoic, pristine features smeared with sex, and the knowledge that his cock was responsible for it. Such was the perverse affection that he felt for the female android that simple knowledge mattered to him just as much as the sauna-temperature flesh coiling around his glans.

Dogged by such sensations, his silence could never have lasted. Minutes into his plunging, progressive increases in the pace and vehemence of his thrusts fueled by his catharsis eventually dragged an all-too-appropriate combination of utterances out of his mouth.

Android or no, 9S was living his dreams—a certain amount of verbalization was to be expected.

“See, 2B? When you put everything together, draining cockjuice out of me is no sweat! You’ll still probably end up looking like a sloppy mess when you do it yourself in the future, but hey, at least you’ll be able to add effective maintenance to that list of specialties you have!” he exclaimed, happily.

“All that’s left now is for you to swallow every spurt of sludge I pour down your throat like. Don’t worry, I won’t ask—I know you’ll try just as hard with that as you have with everything else…”

Pausing in the midst of his delivery, 9S dragged the playful grin on his face an inch or so wider before completing his string of utterances as planned.

“After all, the _last thing_ you’d want is for footage of you failing at something as simple as chugging semen making its way back to the resistance, right?”

Despite her preoccupation with the railing of her esophagus, these words hit 2B where she hurt the worst. Only partly aware of the current state of her face and frame, the mere suggestion that the footage 9S was capturing might one day meet the eyes of the resistance tightened her esophagus into a noose, and refocused her hazy psyche onto ensuring that 9S enjoyed as large a release as possible.

Strangely, though, her enduring these reactions failed to infect her consciousness with even a single thought of frustration towards 9S.

The fact that her subordinate was making the completion of her maintenance tasks more difficult than they needed to be had not escaped her attention. Whilst speaking on the two elements of “disgustingly sloppy vacuum blowjobs” she had failed to capture with her initial execution, he could have very easily stated both of the missing elements at the same time—thereby allowing her to approach them in sequence. Instead, he separated them, and used the latter as an excuse to manhandle her frame under the pretense of instruction.

Why he had done these things was not lost on her, either. Throughout their months of missions and travelling, she had spent a great deal of her time chastising him for even the slightest projection of sexual behavior or emotion. Given an opportunity to express these things in a manner mandated by their superiors, he was certain to leverage it to the fullest.

According to the knowledge that she maintained about young male humans, anyone placed within a circumstance similar to his own was likely to do the same.

While no part of her regretted her adherence to the protocols built into her being, what amounts of her mind remained capable of sisterly affection regretted causing her younger partner so much frustration. Amplified in relevance by the musk chemical in the midst of rewiring her priorities, these parts of her argued that no matter how abrasive his treatment of her became, it could be accepted as a necessity of his maintenance and detestable treatment that she had earned through her actions. As such, feelings of frustration towards her circumstance were deemed to be more ‘unwarranted’ within her mind than any other emotion.

‘Normalizations’ aside, her acceptance of what was coming to her was not her only motivation for accepting her facefucking for what it was. As 9S’ goring of her throat increased in speed and the discharges of throatslop from her nostrils became more numerous, a very different form of acceptance borne from the core of her altered psyche began filling her mind with verbalizations of thoughts that here directives typically suppressed.

One by one, they softened her.

“9S doesn’t dislike me. His masturbation with my insides actually represents his affection for me.”

“As an android, he shouldn’t be capable of feeling or projection affection. But he does—just towards me. He enjoys spreading the slobber-drenched meat of my throat with his cock more than he desires to be in line with the standards of his creators.”

“That makes me feel…”

“Happy. Feelings are prohibited, but being adored by someone is very pleasant. Even if it is as a glorified toilet for their semen ♥.”

So convincing—so _correct_ did these thoughts feel within her that, when finally 9S produced his final full hilt down her throat, 2B found herself without the desire to validate her circumstance.

She wanted to be where she was. To be fucked full of 9S’ semen and to be forever changed because of it…

-

**LEARNING EXPERIENCES WITH INTIMACY**

9S’ final depression of 2B’s throat along his cock was eerily reminiscent of his first. Seemingly out of nowhere, the status quo established by the acceleration of his thrusts and the additional weight he flung behind them bottomed out into a seemingly ordinarily flooring of 2B’s lips down to the root of his crotch. The fringes of her cheeks were flattened into the mire plastered across the region, and per usual, her nostrils were freshly smothered against the same sharply semen-scented expanse of crotch flesh that they had been bounced against for minutes on end.

Evidently, this depression was anything from normal. Straight after its execution, 9S abandoned his single-palm impression of 2B’s face against his crotch in favor of a two-handed ‘hug’ of her skull up against the region. Almost instantaneously, he bent his knees, and subsequently pressed the weight of his frame inward onto the tips of his toes as if intending to make this single depression more potent than any of his others.

The reason for his efforts became clear the moment he finished setting himself. Straight after this event, a desperate inward flick of his crotch buried his glans an inch or so deeper into the knotted confines of 2B’s esophagus, and with this funneled enough raw stimulation through his cock to plunge his frame into orgasm. Not a second later, a wadded expulsion of dense, resin-like cockjuice packed within the root of his member throughout his ‘maintenance’ session wriggled upwards through a debilitating engorgement of his urethra until its ascent splattered its contents down across the depths of 2B’s esophagus in the form of a single forearm length-strand of bulbous reproductive jelly.

Throughout its discharge, a saliva-mired outburst tinged with the sexual mania of a youth fulfilled spilled from 9S’ maw with the same vehemence.

“ **Thereeee** we go! I-I even made it nice n’ easy for you, 2B! YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE BUT TO CHOKE DOWN EVERY DROP OF MY STINKING REPRODUCTIVE FLUID NOW!” he exclaimed, jovially. “YOU KNOW HOW THAT WORKS, D-DON’T YOU? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SWALLOW; CHUG DOWN EVERYTHING MY COCK SPEWS UP JUST LIKE YOU WOULD IF YOUR LIFE DEPENDED ON IT!!”

Howled demands aside, 2B was left with very few choices to make in the matter. Pinned to the root of his cock by his hug and very nearly choked by the unruly bloat of his first rope of semen, swallowing actively and repeatedly was the only choice that her malfunctioning self-preservation systems could make.

Ordinarily, the funneling of an opaque, semi-solid sludge that borrowed qualities from jelly, industrial resin, and especially congested semen into the depths of her stomach would have prompted her frame to messily regurgitate whatever volume of it was dumped into her the moment it made contact with her esophagus lining. Fundamentally altered by the musk that bled from every pore of 9S’ crotch and loosely familiar with the substance’s makeup as a result of her swallowing down his precum, 2B instead found herself perfectly capable of swallowing down the congealed jizz strands precisely as directed.

No less strained or revolted by the effort than she would have been in her right mind, the blurting of a given thread of nut through the knot-tight lower reaches of her esophagus—these in themselves mirroring an influx of a glutted liquid metal into a narrow molding frame of flesh—was met by her with sluggish invocations of peristalsis, and muffled groans of discomfort entirely unrelated to the jetting of arcs of cuntsyrup out against the crotch of her leotard. Per gulp that she managed, a revolting *GLORP~* toned with respect to the gross virility of the semen she squeezed through her esophagus thundered out and away from her crotch-compressed skull at a volume loud enough to convey the goings-on within her esophagus to the blind. Sewage-like and stuttered, their outflow soon became the dominant noise elicited by 9S’ release (the splatter of 2B’s own female lubricants against the ground measuring in at a close second).

At first, acclimating herself to the scalding compilation of the steaming glue-sludge that constituted 9S’ reproductive fluid was the most difficult part of the effort for her. Never before subjected to a substance warm enough to tease her artificial organs or thick enough to fatten their inner tubing, the beginnings of his release caught her without a previous experience with which to balance her approach.

Magically efficient in her handling of the event, her next ‘difficulty’ came in the form of its splattering against her stomach. Unwilling to sit against the base of her stomach as a simple fluid, the first pair of cockjuice threads she rolled into her stomach thoroughly inundated the organ’s base just in time for those that followed to begin contributing to the creation of an opaque basin of partly-translucent pudding within it.

Taxing as her circumstance became, 2B could not bring herself to look away from reality. Subjected to a nauseating fullness within her first few gulps, she quickly arrived at the conclusion that the volume of semen 9S had prepared for her would bloat her stomach beyond its storage capacity. Even if pushed to its very limit, the writhing sludge that she was chugging was still more likely to overwhelm her innards with layers of blubbery semen than it was to not.

Inexplicably, though, no such failure-inducing inflation came to pass. After several seconds of feeding segmented outflows of cockjuice into the basin formed within her stomach, the compilation of sludge atop sludge forced the shape of her stomach to swell outwards in time with the rise of semen within it. Once filled up to the rim of flesh separating her stomach from her esophagus, the organ sidestepped its failure with further expansion and digestion. Whilst the continued fattening of her stomach forced 2B to entertain the creation of a sac-like bloating of her midsection with lumpy, semen-backed pudge, the remainder of her mock digestive tract was enlisted in keeping whatever volume of semen 9S saw fit to part with contained within her.

Far too overwhelmed to question her frame’s adaptation, 2B maintained her focus on the task at hand. Then, once over the initial hurdles of 9S’ release, she unwittingly settled herself into a pattern of chugging far easier than the one she had started with.

Why it was easier was no longer relevant to her. That it ever had been was framed as a thought more ludicrous than the volume of semen she had gulped into her stomach.

Throughout its execution, she even had time to think herself.

“Chewable semen is filling my stomach—no. **9S’ muddy reproductive** fluid is filling my stomach. I don’t….I can’t tell if his semen has been altered, but I don’t think that human semen was ever this thick. For that matter, male reproductive cells aren’t supposed to be large enough for me to feel their movement.”

“I should hate this more, shouldn’t I? He is essentially using my throat and esophagus as his semen dumpsters and calling it maintenance. Perhaps this is what his new organs require for him to be comfortable, but it still isn’t very becoming…”

“Unless I redirect energy to digesting it, I’ll be fat with it for several days. I’m going to stink of it for even longer.”

“I shouldn’t enjoy this…”

“Should I?”

Were it only that she maintained the wherewithal to devote her newfound thinking ability to the subject of her body’s achievements, 2B was likely to have found an ‘answer’ in the form of 9S’ reproductive fluid.

Contained within every rope of bulbous plaster-resin funneled through the youth’s length were contrived reproductive cells fashioned to both resemble and function as human sperm. Several times larger than was normal for a human and embedded with reconstructive catalysts and chemicals _alongside_ 9S’ baseline programming, their introduction into the ‘system’ represented by 2B’s frame resulted in an instantaneous release of the modification payloads that they contained. Over and over again, modifiers for her internal organs were dumped out into her stomach in accordance with the ‘sperm’ cells’ wriggling and writhing against her gullet’s inner lining. After initiating the enhancement of her stomach’s pliancy, their continued uptake by her digestive tract began a silent distribution of the volatile cocktail throughout her entire body in amounts that it could neither detect nor reject.

Needless to say, 2B recognized none of this. In refraining from reflection at her first opportunity to do so, she denied herself key insights as to what the semi-solid plaster being spewed into her was doing.

What she gained from this was an effective consumption of the full volume of 9S’ orgasm. By focusing herself on simplicity, she soon found the length of the semen threads spewed into her shortened down to the scale of pudgy wads, and the tightness with which 9S hugged her face to his crotch replaced by a satisfied looseness.

Soon enough, she even experienced the replacement of his orgasmic grunting with coherent speech.

“Ha…”

“Haha! That was great Fucking cockjuice out into your stomach was every bit as amazing as I thought it’d be, 2B!” 9S chuckled, warmly. “I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to actually take every drop on your first try, too. I guess all of your dedication to protocol and stuff was finally good for something, haha!”

As he spoke, 9S kept his eyes focused down at 2B’s face. On recognition of consciousness within her visor-covered profile, his running utterance acquired further energy and perversion.

“Or you might just be a natural--who knows. We’ll have plenty of time to find out, though, so how about we take a break?” he continued. “Looking at you like this, it seems like you could use some time to make sure you don’t puke out all of the cum I’ve poured into you.”

“It’ll give me plenty of time to put the finishing touches on my recording, so if anything, it’s a win win.”

Though she could have, 2B did not make any attempts at decrying the lewd praise that was launched at her.

Unbeknownst to 9S, he had described her circumstance to a ‘T’: in that moment, the only thing that she wished to do was remain in her squat and focus on digesting the semen that had laid claim to her entire being...


	2. Repurposing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9S' sexual aggression and degeneracy escalates in accordance with his new body, and 2B's physical and mental corruption continues at a pace that she can do nothing about. Whilst trying to carry out missions and maintain what remains of her relationship with 9S, she is hampered by increases in the size of her breasts and ass, and near-constant sexual utilization by 9S that leaves her body too-clogged with semen to function.
> 
> Against her better judgement, she begins to contemplate her future as a combat android, and whether or not her existence would be more purposeful draining 9S' cock as best as she can.
> 
> Only time will tell what becomes of her.

On occasion, 2B felt as though her existence as an android lacked was too concrete. Created in mimicry of a species that spent the duration of their lives asking themselves questions and searching for answers, what amounts of her mirrored humanity filled her heart with pangs of dissonance each time she was reminded of her existence’s ‘simplicity’.

From the moment that she was activated, everything she needed to know about herself was already inside her head. Her ‘who’ was a battle android designed to fight for mankind. Her ‘aspirations’ were to succeed. The ‘things that she was good at’ were for combat and tactical planning. The ‘things that she was bad at’ were human interactions. Her ‘likes’ were successfully completing missions, and her ‘dislikes’ were all focused on failure.

Over time, the things that defined her didn’t change. For centuries, she carried out the will of mankind certain of herself and her own capacity for success. However much the absence of uncertainty within herself irked her (when made to recognize it), the certainty that she maintained as a result allowed her to function at her utmost on a daily basis without consciously attempting to do so.

For her, thinking and acting as a competent battle android were not choices, but the very foundation of her being; a grounding platform from which she’d never be toppled.

Programmed to view the existence of this platform as a necessity, 2B intentionally avoided imagining a reality that conflicted with it. Her days of waffling about the concreteness of her life came and went with the years, but her belief in what she was and what she was capable of resisted every major conflict that she endured—

Even those that should have changed her perception of herself for the better.

**“2B, MOVE!”**

A half-step short through a heeled stride meant to bring her sword on down on the limb of a mid-class machine, these words prompted 2B to halt her progression as soon as she could. Balance addled by recent increases in her centuries-maintained body mass, her best attempt at digging her heels into the dry earth between them and throwing herself away from her target culminated in a slow skid that threatened to deliver her directly ahead of it.

On closer observation of her eventual destination, the reason for the outburst she had heard became clear. Fractions of a second after it reached her ears, her eyes caught the extension of second bladed appendage off from the mass of the first.

Based on her current trajectory, the delivery of her blow would have resulted in it impaling her. As far as she could tell, it still would; try as she might to slow her slide, the momentum that she had built up and her newfound top-heaviness had rendered her incapable of controlling her frame as she was used to.

Stalwart even in the face of injury, her recognition of this did not change anything about her demeanor. Throughout her slide, she remained poised to act out of it, and suppressed her desire to grimace in anticipation of the pain that would soon consume her.

Protocol aside, such responses were excessive in the face of a consequence she’d never actually endure.

At the same moment that she recognized her failure, a massive katana stroke manipulated from out of her peripheral vision severed both the appendage and its branch before her midsection could make contact with them. Subsequently, a flurry of blows delivered by the floating weapon diced the rugged black mass of the machine into a harmless trio of misshapen pieces that fell to the ground seconds after their creation.

Privy to the fact that she’d be bailed out of her mistake well before she actually was, 2B did not devote much attention to the machine’s destruction after the fact. Whereas the combatant in her wished to do nothing but, the precision and smoothness of the strokes that destroyed the machine failed to take hold of her attention the way the event’s primary consequence did.

Before the heat and smoke created by the machine’s destruction could reach her face, the sensation of palms squeezing down into the fabric-gloved bloat of her breasts shifted her focus towards her chest, then directly behind her in search of the appendages’ owner. Shortly afterwards, the fingers attached to these palms were pressed deeper into the hugely-sensitive mounds whilst the wrists at their roots carried the pressure that they exerted through a stimulating swirl all about their bloat.

With this, paying attention to anything other than her immediate circumstance lost its appeal to 2B.

As far as she was concerned, this attention was better spent on attending to the young man behind her.

“Jeez, you’re really starting to suck at this whole combat thing, huh?” 9S began, grinning. “It’s no surprise when you’re carrying so much extra weight in your chest these days, but it’s actually a lot worse than I thought. If I was anymore taken up with watching your tits wobble while you ran, you might’ve actually gotten hurt!”

Noting the poor taste of his joke as soon as he finished uttering it, a sunny 9S moved from teasing his older companion to soothing her without missing a beat.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding; I’d never let that happen. At the end of the day, stuff like this is what partners are for. Don’t worry about thanking me, either—being able to fight with you is reward enough.”

“Well, that and opportunities like this I guess, haha.”

Unshaken from his split-second intervention, 9S used the aftermath of the machine’s destruction to shift himself behind 2B and begin ‘massaging’ her breasts as though he owned them. Crotch pressed up against the gratuitous puffiness of her rear and chest dipped into contact with her midback, both his position and behavior suggested a level of intimacy between the pair that shouldn’t have existed between androids.

Months prior, it hadn’t. Since then, however, 9S had taken it upon himself to tear down the barriers that 2B had used to separate them and impose every intimately perverse fantasy he harbored about her body as he saw fit.

Compared the majority of these fantasies, kneading the flesh of her breasts through her dress post combat was actually quite tame.

Needless to say, 2B did not share this opinion.

“...I do not think that this qualifies as appropriate post-combat behavior, 9S. I realize that I no longer have much choice where matters like this are concerned, but I intend to continue reminding you of this so that you don’t forget.” 2B replied, calmly.

“I-I am still thankful for your assistance, though. My participation in your maintenance sessions is to blame for my reduced capacity for combat, s-so until I acclimate to whatever becomes of my condition, I will be counting on your continued support where combat is concerned.”

“T-That said…”

Pausing briefly, 2B curled her gaze away from 9S and back down towards her chest. Behind a long stare at the mass of her bust (and what little of her lower body could be seen past them) she again turned her head back towards 9S to continue speaking.

“I-Is any more than this really necessary? I can barely manage to function as I am now, but I worry that changing more might leave me useless where combat is concerned.” she continued, worriedly. “A-As a combat android, losing the ability to function as I was designed to would be dangerous for the both of us, wouldn’t it?”

Well used to complaints of this sort from his ‘superior’, 9S did not bother responding to her until his palms had their fill of kneading the squishy sacs he had pressed them into. Second by second, he intensified the depression of his fingers into her breasts until the black dress fabric set atop them began to seem purposeless, and accelerated his kneading to ensure that as much of their succulent swell tasted his touch as possible.

Throughout these seconds of molestation, he mulled over his companion’s reality.

In the months that had passed since 2B had begun consuming his semen for ‘maintenance purposes’, the shape of her frame had actually changed considerably. Without a single inch of added height or width for her torso, the modest D-Cup breasts that had once filled out the bust-portion of her dress had been replaced by mammoth tear-drop sacs of breastflesh sized up to the midpoint between a G-Cup and an H-Cup. Whilst not so ridiculous as to be unfathomable whilst attached to such a petite torso, the extent to which they protruded away from her chest and the skin-tight thinness that they imposed on the dress fabric that was supposed to obscure them could not be described as anything other than abnormal. Alongside the choking of her dress’ frontal cleavage window with a wealth of pale breastmeat, the patterned, partly-translucent ‘hood’ of fabric that had initially added a tasteful allure to her bust now sat stretched so significantly that the color of the breasts it encapsulated could be seen through it.

Of the changes made to her frame, this one was by far the most significant. Unused to carrying around so much weight on her chest, the progressive swelling of her new breasts had robbed 2B of a great deal of her centuries-maintained maneuverability.

Had it been the only ‘change’ that she was forced to acclimate to, learning to manage it properly was likely to have become a matter of time for her. However, it wasn’t; for the same reason that her breasts had become engorged sacs of naturally-bloated fat and flesh, her gapped thighs had become just-slightly thicker, and the already enormous peach of leotard-bitten buttocks meat affixed to her rear had somehow become even rounder and wobblier. To reiterate, neither of these changes were as significant as the gains made at her bust; a saving grace if one were to consider what 2B lost by sporting them. Nevertheless, they remained appreciable by the naked eye, and successfully complicated the daily use of her body.

As a start, 9S was extremely satisfied with what had become of his older companion. A significant amount of ‘work’ remained to be done on her (in his opinion), but compared to the years prior to his internal adjustments, enjoying her body with either his eyes or hands was much easier than it had been before.

Behind several seconds spent reveling in what he had accomplished, 9S in the end produced the same response that he did whenever 2B decided to complain about the state of her body:

He disregarded her, and reframed her imagined negatives as positives.

“Oh, you’ll be fineeeee. You’re a YoHRa android, 2B—you’re not going to just fall apart just because a few of your components end up altered.” he began, chuckling. “Like you said, it’ll just take some time for you to get used to them. It’s obviously going to get worse before it gets better, so I think it’s probably for the best if you just accept it.”

“I’ll still be supporting you, so there’s nothing to worry about regardless. Just concentrate on making sure that all of the maintenance you still have to perform is as good as it can be, alright?”

Yet to lose her wits to the changes made to her body, 2B had braced herself for a response along these lines from the moment that 9S took his pause. Long since without any choice or recourse in the matter, she sighed, and afterwards abandoned the topic as her pragmatic disposition suggested…

All whilst 9S’ hands continued their abrasive groping of her breast flesh.

“...Understood. In that case, we shouldn’t linger here much longer. The machine cluster containing our target can’t be far from here.” she continued, thinly. “They’ll notice the absence of that sentry’s signal soon enough, so we should take care of it before they pin down our location.”

“On the subject, this would be a good time for you to scout ahead as well. The numbers that we’re dealing with aren’t that significant, but in my current state, we’ll have a much easier time of this if we attack their formation where it’s weakest.”

“R-Right?”

Right up until the end of her address, 2B’s voice regained the icy seriousness that typically defined it. One of the many gifts attached to her mission-oriented nature, smoothly directing 9S was one of few things that still came naturally to her where her work was concerned.

Regrettably, directing him in this way was also to her benefit. Quietly elated by the prospect of interacting normally with 9S on a mission routine, her anticipation of their temporary separation resulted in the tone of her final word being addled by her nervousness.

Familiar with 2B in all of her states, this brief fluttering was all that it took to turn the smile on 9S’ face into a smirk. Stepping forward from behind her and releasing her breasts, he folded his arms behind his head, and afterwards addressed his latest order in between the performance of several short streches.

“Sure, sure. Makes sense. I’d have kind of preferred it if you and your fat ass were there with me, but work is work. I’ll have the information you need in just a bit.” he replied, shortly.

“G-Good, I appreciate your cooperation, 9S. I’ll await your coordinates before—”

“But you know…” interjecting naturally, 9S produced a short sidestep that left him close enough to 2B’s frame to reach out and take her left hand into his right.

“I might need some _maintenance_ done beforehand, so how about we just go together? Once you’re done, I can get the coordinates, and we can attack together from whatever angle works best. Three birds, one stone.”

Caught, 2B’s disposition denied her the ability to simply surrender to her younger subordinate’s whims. Whilst her unchanged facial expression was reddened by embarrassment, she instead attempted to regain control of their conversation as she had so many times in the past.

Tragically, her doing so served only to remind her as to how much had changed between then and now.

“M-Moving in pairs is discouraged by mission protocol, 9S. It’s in our best interest to proceed as command recommends where possi—”

“I know. But maintenance is important too, isn’t it? I might end up passing out or something if I don’t get the calibrations I need before the missions starts.” he retorted. “Like you said, this isn’t a huge cluster or anything; I think we can afford to do this a little bit more flexibly.”

“P-Perhaps, but I still feel that,”

“Great, glad you agree! Now, let’s get going. After all, the sooner we get started with this is the better our odds that the sound of your tits slapping against your chest won’t get us caught!”

Straight after this utterance, 9S set off in the direction that he believed would eventually present the machines that they were looking for. Dragging 2B behind him with a suggestively loose grasp on her left hand, he intentionally left conditions between them ripe for his older companion to put her foot down if she so chose to.

His doing so was not for her sake, but as a result of his knowing that she would follow along behind him anyway.

And she did. Leaving him to his reconnaissance duties after hearing him state a need for maintenance essentially tied her hands. No matter if his desires violated protocol or subjected her frame to further augmentation, compliance was the only choice left available to her—

Both as his superior, and the android responsible for any and all of the maintenance requests that he produced.

-

**THE STATUS QUO**

As predicted by both 2B and 9S, the machine cluster that separated them from their target was not especially large or threatening. Consisting of a mere 3 dozen wasteland-oriented machines and 6-7 sentries, the odds of their being able to withstand a coordinated assault from the two of them seemed slim. Separately, only four of these machines were dedicated to the protection of their target: a mechanized cube supposedly laden with the combat data of androids from centuries in the past.

From every angle that the pair used to assess it, the task ahead of them appeared to be a commonplace.

Being herself, recognition of this did not change 2B’s perspective on how the mission ought to be completed. Throughout, she remained of the opinion that a standard approach would serve the two of them best, and regularly communicated this to 9S with the expectation of his compliance.

Being a ‘subordinate’ recently freed from the shackles of his superior’s orders, this knowledge encouraged slackness in 9S. While smart enough to recognize that the possibility of failure persisted in every apparent ‘done deal’ concerning the machine threat, the apparent ease of the mission prompted him to impose several ‘maintenance sessions’ onto 2B throughout their reconnaissance.

Under the pretense of stiffness within his finger joints and a disquieting tightness within his crotch, he suggested that 2B ‘repair’ his body with her crotch and breasts at three different junctures. Specifically, whilst observing the machines from a given angle, he demanded that the older android seat the jiggle-prone fat of her ass directly against his crotch. As soon as she was settled, his hands again subjected the bountiful swell of her breasts to minutes of flesh-depressing, nipple-fattening molestation.

If ‘modest’ in the sense that these sessions were broken up by their movement from point to point, 9S ensured that their actual contents were anything but. Motivated by the impression of his superior’s plump buttocks against his crotch, he enhanced all of his stints of groping with deft spillages of his fingers into the stretched cleavage window of her dress, and the imposition of rhythmical pinches against the gelatinous cylinders of nipple flesh engorged by his touch.

Additionally, he made certain to make his orders as ‘practical’ as he could. As an addendum to her seating herself, he suggested that she swirl her hips in wide circles around the expanse of his crotch to feed stimulation into the growing log of cockflesh rooted at it.

The fact that these swirls were meant for his cock did not stop him from pleasuring 2B with the act as well. In all three instances, he waited until his cyclical squeezing of her mounds dragged extremely stifled groans from the back of her throat before making these demands, and supplemented them with a deft grind of her bloated nipple flesh between the thumb and index finger of both of his hands. Like this, he guaranteed compliance from her, and at the same time tempted her easily-stimulated frame into further acceptance of his ministrations.

With time, he even managed to turn her recently-amplified libido against her. By ending his groping as promptly as he initiated it, he progressively stoked 2B’s receptiveness to his touch until what little control she maintained over herself could be overwritten with a single command.

Then, he struck. Minutes before what was to be the beginning of their operation, he suggested that 2B complete her fine-tuning of his body “as she usually did”.

Between the two of them, the ‘usual’ referred to the use of her mouth and throat as a slobbering vacuum for his semen. Knowing this, a flushed and abnormally-sweaty 2B protested against the act with her usual curt pragmatism. From the beginning of her descent down to her knees right up to the moment she parted her jaggedly-pursed lips to present the gooey humidity of her mouth, utterances about the inappropriateness of the act and the time and place 9S had selected streamed from her lips one after another.

After this point, however, she fell silent—

But not for a lack of desire to speak.

-

**MISSION START**

***GLROP-GLRRSCH-SPLORTCH-SPLATCH-SCHLLUP-GLORP!***

Try as she might to keep herself focused on the machines hundreds of yards ahead of her, most all of 2B’s attention was taken up by the sounds and sensations created by the fucking of her throat. For minutes on end, the repeated spreading of her gullet around 9S’ cock and the horridly perverse squelching noises that it elicited had consumed her within a lustful stupor that felt impossible to surmount.

Not quite as ‘well versed’ in the human sex acts that her subordinate enjoyed, 2B felt that her condition was something far more shameful than it was in reality. In her mind, the idea that a mixture of groping and the raw, semen-tinged stench that emanated from 9S’ cock was enough to render her a malleable set of orifices throughout his maintenance was proof that something within her had been degraded to the point of non-function. Mandatory or no, the ease with which she was drawn into 9S’ maintenance and the feverishness with which she performed was contrary to the ‘self’ she had spent centuries becoming familiar with.

Unbeknownst to her, most any other rigid woman put in her place—android or human—would have responded to her situation similarly.

After presenting her lips ahead of 9S’ cock, a spirited thrust from him as combined with a sudden compression of his right hand against the back of her head plunged several inches of his sweat-plastered spire across her tongue, then through the well-fucked curvature of her throat. Delivered into her esophagus only seconds later, his initial stroke ultimately delivered over half of his cock into the spongy warmth of her esophagus.

What followed was very much like the ‘usual’ for one of her facefucking sessions. Without remorse, 9S took it upon himself to reel the inches he had impaled between her lips outwards until his glans induced a perverse spread of her lips, then plunged every single one of these spittle-greased inches straight back down her throat. Making certain to do so only after she applied the utmost suction against his glans (a transition that now came naturally to the female android), the beginnings of his metronome saw a wealth of stimulation driven from the nose of his shaft straight down to its midsection.

Seemingly indifferent to the stinging compression and slimy humidity that surrounded his erection on all sides, he committed himself to mucus-laden reproductions of these strokes throughout the seconds that followed. Content to fuck mildly-pressurized discharges of throatslop from 2B’s gullet as he went, he senselessly plunged over half of his cock back and forth through her esophagus’ embrace with hardly a second of rest in-between. Consumed by the puffy strangulation of her gullet throughout—a stifling ‘hug’ of well-fucked flesh against the pudgy, vessel-coated exterior of his member—he nevertheless managed to keep a pace that rendered his counterpart’s face as a sputtering masturbation toy for his cock.

Nothing, not even a discounting of the vehement slurps and gurgles fucked from 2B’s depths, could make this ascription inaccurate. Throughout his thrusting salvo, significant layers of spittle and mucus were plastered from the midsection of his cock down towards its root whilst considerable quantities of the same slime were smeared across 2B’s cheeks. Worse still, strands of mucus drooled down from both of her nostrils continually, and a single silver-white strand of pubic hair took up permanent residence at the corner of her mouth.

Whereas the 9S of months prior may’ve slowed his metronome on occasion to properly enjoy the state of 2B’s face, this one had enjoyed the sight just often enough to focus on her esophagus’ attentive wringing of his member instead. For minutes on end, driving his cock deeper and deeper through the trained sleeve and savoring its suckling convulsions against the veins of his cock were the primary ‘thing’ that he concerned himself with. The precum-draining suction occasionally applied to his glans by her lips occupied a close second, and the impacts of his massive testicles against the slop-greased exterior of her chin a narrow third, but overall, the stimulation he earned from her esophagus always dominated the majority of his attention.

And for good reason: Per stroke, it was the nuzzling of his cock through the sex-fattened tube that fed the fattest wads of semen into the base of his cock.

In short, if assaulted by such a focused salvo of thrusts from such a massive, musk-saturated cock, no reasonable woman could expect complete detachment from herself.

Fussily unreasonable by nature, 2B continued to expect more of herself until an impression of 9S’ cock down her throat resulted in the remainder of his cock being gored down through her esophagus.

The hilting of his length down her throat played no part in her softening, however. It was only when the disappearance of his cock down her throat was ‘enhanced’ by the conduction of countless familiar throbs through the organ that 2B at last decided to cut herself some slack.

Faced with the impending eruption of 9S’ backed-up semen into her quivering depths, accepting that she had been pushed into a no-win situation from the start was the only way that she could cope.

“F-Fucking perfect! Suck out every squirmy drop of nut I dump down your throat!” 9S exclaimed, grinning. “We’ll both be completely ready to deal with the rest of this mission afterwards, so swallow as hard you can too, got it?”

Despite her hearing 9S speak, 2B again found herself without the wherewithal to properly attend to things unrelated to the boy’s cock. Whilst her ears were filled with internally-muffled *GLORP* and *SCHLRSH* noises produced by her esophagus’ dousing with semen, her senses were consumed in appreciation of the semen that was coating her esophagus lining and the sheer amount of it that was dumped into the tube per spurt of 9S’ length.

Really, neither of these things should have been as engrossing as they were for her. Comprising the first strand of sludge that erupted from 9S’ cock was the same jellied plaster-sludge that his balls produced on a daily basis. No more or less glutted for the hours that had passed since his last orgasm and funneled through a urethra wide enough to distribute them as strands of wriggling toothpaste, everything about his latest orgasm was in some way comparable to all of the others she had managed to draw out of his cock before.

All the same, she was enraptured. No longer revulsed by the sensation of chewable glut strands streaking out across her esophagus and/or clogging its depths with their weight, she met the squirming muck with repeated instances of phallus-flattening peristalsis. Unaffected by the orgasmic shivers of delight that rippled into her crotch each time a wadded bolus of cum was pushed down towards her stomach (this in spite of the slimy resin’s propensity to ‘stick’ to her esophagus lining like a genuine adhesive), not one of 9S’ numerous eruptions escaped a partial funneling directly into her stomach.

Whilst swallowing, she sucked as well. Slop-greased lips spread around the root of 9S’ cock, she applied suction against the beginnings of his erection in the same way she had countless times prior. Through this, she ensured that every drop of reproductive mire that he intended to blast down her throat was drawn through his cock sooner rather than later.

Not once did it cross her mind that providing these things represented strict adherence to the order that had been barked at her by 9S. In the moment, her focus remained on an acceleration of her stomach’s basting with semen, and through this, a quieting of the mind-numbing desires that had whined within her from the moment she parted her lips ahead of 9S’ cock.

However perverse, this motivation brought 9S’ release to an end faster than even she had expected. Consciousness addled throughout the removal of 9S’ palm from the back of her head and its wrenching her lips (and skull) backwards along his length, she did not truly recognize what had come to pass until her lips’ suction dragged the dregs of his release out against her tongue in the form of several especially-wadded blurts of semen.

Behind the *PPAH~!* that sounded out of her mouth after his cock’s exit, accepting the matter was made much easier for her.

If stated by 9S, 2B could have been made to ‘swallow’ virtually anything.

“Yeesh, you’re a total pro at this now, huh? I didn’t even have to remind you about anything this time, 2B.” 9S chirped, wearily. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling _much_ better now. Feel like getting started with the mission now?”

Against her better judgement, 2B forced herself through a response to the boy’s question. When he produced it, her body would have been satisfied with swirling 9S’ semen around within her mouth and continuing to squirt against the feminine lubrication against the ground

But she had no choice. The combat android 2B was never _not_ ready for a mission, and if semen ever became capable of changing this, her very foundation would be called into question.

Knowing this, she nodded; cheeks languidly ballooned by semen, and lips still plastered with an individual pubic hair each...

-

**ABJECT FAILURE**

At her core, 2B believed that cornering and eviscerating weaponized machine data centers was a kind of art. Ordinarily cautious about allowing her emotions to control the ascriptions that she made, the complexities that she recognized in the task and her apparent mastery of them presented this ascription as one both harmless enough and accurate.

Viewed with this mindset, each and every destruction mission assigned to her became an opportunity for her to indulge herself in something whilst putting her knowledge base to the test. Understandably, they also became her favourite ‘brand’ of mission within a matter of decades; occasional disruptions in the status-quo of wanton destruction required of her by humanity.

Such was the pleasure that she derived from their completion that approaching one such mission with a stomach full of fresh semen did not at all affect the level of focus that she devoted to it. Upon release from her duties assisting 9S with his maintenance, 2B immediately outlined a ‘mission routine’ for the pair structured with their current task in mind.

Based in part on similar missions they had completed in the past, her certainty in the effectiveness of this strategy (and her unwillingness to deal with further rebuttals from 9S) contributed to her pushing the two of them into their respective ready-positions far more quickly than she might’ve ordinarily. Whilst 9S poised himself to distract the machines at the vanguard, 2B inched herself up to a range that would allow for her to destroy the data center and double back to destroy 9S’ eventual assailants from behind.

Crouched behind the edge of a wide arc of tan-colored stone with her target in sight, all that remained for her was the delivery of her killing blow and the initiation of the mission’s clean-up phase.

Simple as the task set out for her seemed, 2B arrived here without anything resembling her usual combat instincts. At the very least cognisant of their absence, she compensated for them by talking herself through the task ahead of her as though she were green to it.

“All you need is one cut, 2B. Machines like this aren’t designed with durability in mind, so you just need to act fast enough to beat out their self-defense protocols.” she thought to herself. “You’ve done this countless times; you shouldn’t be sitting here just thinking about it.”

“Get up and move!”

Spurred on by her own frustration, 2B eventually threw herself forward with a reckless abandon. Brandishing her favorite long-katana, she measured the distance between herself and her target, and motioned with her hands to draw her air-suspended weapon through a perfect stroke across its midsection.

As she did, she felt its destruction. Having destroyed so many similar cores countless times prior, her body imagined the heat created by its explosion and the scent generated by the degradation of its components before either were experienced by her in reality.

Ultimately, neither of them were. Inches short of her mark and seconds short of her window, 2B’s sprint from behind her cover and the katana strike that followed missed the targets required for their success. What they managed instead was an activation of their amorphous target’s defense systems. After collapsing in on itself to reduce its surface area, her target immediately retreated into a pronged scurry across the wasteland whilst emitting a distress signal to the machines placed within the vanguard.

Ironically, 2B’s response to the reality of her failure was far faster than the stroke that had caused it.

“...Unacceptable!”

Behind her hiss, she abandoned her position in favor of a sprint back towards 9S’ position. Propelled equally by her loathing of herself and the sounds of combat that echoed from ahead of her, the speed that her stroke had lacked was visible in every step she took towards her destination.

This time, though, her haste proved unnecessary. Awaiting her at the vanguard was neither a cornered, nor a struggling 9S. As if designed for the same specialities that defined her, the 9S that she found was one amidst the husks of numerous destroyed machines, and several others in the midst of fleeing to prioritize the safe relocation of the data center she had failed to destroy.

At a glance, the boy hadn’t broken a sweat throughout, either.

“Hey, 2B. How did your end go?” 9S began, grinning. “Actually, what am I talking about? You wouldn’t have rushed back over here if you weren’t finished, so I guess we’re pretty much done for the…”

Prompted by his companion’s arrival, 9S began surveying his surroundings in search of confirmation for his conclusion.

All that he found throughout was disconfirmation. Around them, the straggling machines from the vanguard had organized themselves. Whereas they _could_ have used this organization to launch a final assault at their assailants, the completion of their formation saw all of them begin retreating in the same general direction. Given their class as sentries, 9S concluded immediately that they had not organized themselves this way in response to their own programming.

They had been ordered to; perhaps by a larger machine or another nearby cluster, but more likely by the data center that 2B had been tasked to destroy. Were a larger machine responsible, the two of them would still be engaged in combat with another wave of machines. Taken with 2B’s early return and the frustrated uncertainty visible across her face, the data center's persistence seemed a more likely conclusion than any of the other alternatives.

Seconds after connecting the dots that he caught sight of, jovial deflation loosened the younger android’s posture. Drooping his shoulders and smiling wryly, he exhaled just loud enough to be heard prior to righting himself ahead of 2B.

With this, all of the focus that he had invested into their mission was instead shifted towards her.

“Oh welllllll. Can’t get ‘em all, right?” he chirped, jovially. “This wasn’t that huge of a mission for either of us, anyway. We’ll probably get another chance to destroy that thing down the line.”

“That look on your face tells me that you probably aren’t going to just accept that, though.”

The ‘look’ that 9S referred to was a mask of emotionless flatness sometimes donned by 2B when she became dead set on keeping her emotions in check. Seeing her produce it in response to their situation wasn’t especially surprising—if anything, it was to 9S a much needed taste of the ‘norm’ where her behaviour was concerned.

Despite being responsible for all of her inefficiencies, 2B’s failure to complete a combat-based mission objective came as a significant shock to him. An irrelevant shock, but one that also necessitated the reassessment of how he ought to proceed with her.

In this sense, seeing her disgust with herself was actually refreshing. Though a wealth of things about her had changed, the combat instincts that defined her still existed within her in one form or another…

Or so her face suggested.

Past his confirmation of this, 9S abandoned his thoughts about 2B’s feelings in favor of thoughts about the sweat-sprinkled state of her body.

The shift itself was involuntary, but the meaning behind it was no less apparent to him:

Months prior, mildly teasing 2B for her failure would have been his foremost priority at a juncture like this. Presently, though, he derived far more satisfaction from feeding his own sexual arousal with the sight of her gleaming thighs and the descent of sweat droplets across the breast flesh captured within her dress’ cleavage window.

As this had become the new ‘norm’ for him, his doing so didn’t earn him a scolding from 2B, either. Still far too incensed at her own failure to focus on much else, her recognition of the fact that she was being ogled again actually resulted in a slight diffusion of her temper.

However much she had changed, she could at least argue that _something_ about her had stayed the same.

“...If you’re genuinely of the opinion that we’ll get another chance, we should see to creating it as soon as possible.” she exhaled, wearily. “W-We’ve just completed your last maintenance session, so I’m sure you should be able to go without staring at me for another few hours. Let’s keep up the pursuit while we still ca…

“Nnnnnh~”

In her commitment to the idea of making the best out of what had become of their situation, 2B intentionally ignored 9S’ approach toward her front as she spoke. Though a number of new precedents had been set for the ‘end result’ of closeness between them, a part of her imagined his approach as being intended as a show of assent to her suggestions.

Following his arrival at her side, the descent of his right palm into a firm, fat-smothering compression of her left buttocks’ flesh proved otherwise.

“Nah, don’t really feel like it. We’ll just tell HQ that I wasn’t able to assist you well enough so that they don’t worry so much.” 9S suggested, firmly. “They’re going to assign us something similar next anyway, so there’s no real point in rushing it.”

“And even if there was, I doubt I’d be up for it. Not with my body _already_ being back in this kind of condition…”

By habit, 2B found her line of sight drawn towards 9S’ frame the moment he made mention of his physical condition. In part as a result of it being an ever-growing eyesore and in part as a result of the aroused warmth that his palm had pushed through her frame, her eyes fell onto the mammoth coil of fully-erect, shorts-swelling cockflesh bundled up at his crotch only moments later.

‘Gifted’ with a form of sight capable of yielding measurements for objects just by looking at them, a second or so of staring at the trapped organ revealed that it had acquired an additional inch in length, and fraction of an inch in girth since last she laid eyes on it. Given that the ‘last time’ was only an hour or so ago, this revelation induced a fresh spread of heat throughout her cheeks, and to her dismay, induced a needy throbbing within her womanhood.

Already forced to question what defined her by her failure, the overwhelming potency of these sensations pushed 2B into an immediate chiding of herself.

“Why are you thinking about this now? 9S has changed the way your insides work, but you’re still a combat android, aren’t you?” she thought to herself, internal utterances muffled by the fluttering of her heart. “There’s still time to complete the mission and you’re still 9S’ superior. You’ve managed situations like this so many times before.”

“Just open your mouth and do it. That’s what you’d do ordinarily, so why should things be different now?”

“J-Just because his body is like this now doesn’t mean that…”

“I-It doesn’t mean that…”

Despite arriving at a conclusion and deciding on how to respond to it, 2B invested far too much time into urging herself, and far too little into actually acting.

Whilst engaged in the former, 9S spoke out to ensure that she never actually attempted the latter.

“I mean, it _is_ your fault. Even before the factory, walking around all day looking at your fat ass bounce wasn’t the easiest, y’know? The least you can do is take some responsibility now that things are like this.” 9S continued.

“And, hey, look on the brightside! If you can’t cut it as a combat android anymore, you can always put all of that motivation and drive you put into our missions into draining cum out of me whenever I ask, right?” he suggested.

“I mean, at least we know there’s no way you’re _ever_ going to suck at that.”

In the face of this declaration, 2B failed to muster anything more than the presentation of a cutely-jagged grimace across her lips and a juvenile balling of both of her hands into fists.

It was not as if vehemently denying his claim was beyond her. The moment her ears caught 9S’ suggestion, doing so was her very first instinct as well.

But she couldn’t—

She was 2B: a YoHRa combat android capable of controlling her emotions and acting in accordance with the directives of humanity.

Aware of this fact right from the beginning of his address, 9S took her silence to mean compliance. First releasing the meat of her buttocks from his palm, he afterwards stepped past his statuesque partner to take up a position directly behind her.

On arrival here, he exerted himself as the new dynamic between them demanded.

“Whaddya know? We agree again!” he began, jovially. “Since we don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon, I’m just going to go ahead and blow another load with this stupidly fat ass of yours. That’s what seems to work best when it comes to ‘fixing’ my body, so you don’t mind, right?”

Despite posing his intent as a question, 9S left 2B very little choice in the matter. As he spoke, he raised both of his hands up to contact with her hips, then leaned forward to press the weight of his upper body into contact with her back.

Next, he began to pull. Privy as to how the instincts he had fucked into her worked, he used his hands to begin urging her frame down to the ground.

Before 2B even recognized what was occurring, this was precisely where she had ended up. As if programmed to follow through with the urgings of 9S’ touch, the rigidity of her knees gave way to a progressive downward bend that eventually dropped her kneecaps against the ground. Soon afterwards, the weight and warmth his chest applied to her back pushed her torso forward until the newfound weight of her breasts demanded that she begin supporting herself with the underside of her forearms.

Only after her frame ceased moving in accordance with 9S’ presence did she recognize where she had ended up. Somehow, she had bent herself over on her hands and knees whilst keeping her rear hiked up to perfect parity with the monstrous bulge of erect phallus-flesh at 9S’ crotch.

Here, the requirements of her position became heavier. In sequence, her duty to adhere to all of 9S’ maintenance requests was compounded by the same sense of sisterly obligation that had instructed her to repel 9S’ advances in the past.

Together, they suggested that she had no other choice:

She needed to continue working with 9S. If not as his superior, then as a ‘means of support’.

“...Just don’t take any longer than is necessary. I-I understand that it usually takes a great deal of effort for you to be properly ‘repaired’, b-but I would still like to try and pursue our target…” 2B replied, wearily.

“I-If time allows, that is.”

Behind this utterance, she prepared herself. Per her knowledge of 9S’ ‘habits’ regarding her penetration, she immediately centered her attention on the leotard fabric swallowed between her asscheeks and the throbbing flesh of her lowerlips.

Sure enough, both were drawn into play moments later. After marking the sound made by 9S’ shorts as they were drawn off of his cock and crotch, a familiar set of digits peeled the meagre strip of fabric glued to the exterior of her cunt out of contact with it, and a familiarly-bloated helmet head of glans flesh topped off with a bloated wad of precum kissed the exterior of her womanhood.

2B expected to be penetrated immediately after the hormone-lathered organ touched her. Instead, though, the very next form of stimuli that she experienced was the sound of 9S’ voice ringing through her ear.

“No promises on that one, obviously. I say this all the time, but I think I deserve to do this my way, don’t you?”

For a split second, something about the quality of 9S’ voice tempted 2B to agree with him. But, before she actually could, a savage thrust of his hips plunged his cock through a cunt-rending depression into the needy embrace of her inner walls.

After this, whether or not she agreed became unimportant—

Even if her mind didn’t, her body always would.

-

**CHANGE**

Whereas 2B was sometimes want to appreciate the destruction of machines as an art, 9S viewed his regular fucking of the older android as a kind of skill. ‘Mastering’ it required practice, as did maintaining one’s efficiency and familiarity with its execution. Proficiency at it could be lost through inactivity, and consistency in it could be acquired by indulging oneself in it whenever possible.

The root of his view had little to do with his identity as an android. One could still argue that his decision to proceduralize something like intercourse was influenced by the yearnings of the programming implanted within him, but the truth of the matter actually concerned desires he had harboured long before the modification of his body.

In his mind, intercourse was a skill that could be used to achieve intimacy with the opposite sex. Thus, by mastering it, he’d also become capable of achieving this intimacy with any woman that he chose: even one who claimed to be incapable of anything resembling romance.

This, in conjunction with the monstrous libido written into his core, served as the motivation for his current rutting of 2B’s cunt. As abrasive as it was thorough, 9S shaped his thrusts in mimicry of the most successful bouts of intercourse he could recall, and invested a surplus of energy into the act to ensure that each one he delivered was as invasive and impactful as the last.

What these investments yielded was a thrusting metronome that subjected 2B’s vaginal canal to the full length of his cock as backed by the weight of his lower body. After guiding her down to her knees and plunging himself down through her drooling folds to the root, 9S abandoned his kneeling position behind her for one that provided him with more leverage. First setting his feet flat against the ground and rising up to an extremely-deep squat, he subsequently stepped forward with his left whilst pushing his right backwards to stabilize his weight. This done, he leaned his chest down to a height just short of contact with 2B’s back, and finally slipped into the delivery of deep, cervix-kissing sledgehammer blows with his crotch.

An android in both name and capacity, his creation of this metronome was startlingly efficient. In defiance of the needy suction that 2B’s folds impressed along his length’s exterior, 9S curled his cock back through an upward angled hook until over 2/3rds of its length were messily extracted from her embrace. Retreat unaffected by the elongation of syrupy strands of female lubrication between his meat and her depths, his arrival at this stopping point was immediately followed by a gravity-backed punch of his meat straight back down to her canal’s back end. Though blocked from her womb by the pudgy resistance put up by 2B’s cervix, the pleasure he accrued from mushing his glans up against the squishy button motivated his metronome-locked lower body to produce his next plunge even faster. Plunge into retraction into plunge, the sections of his ministrations fed into one another in perfect sequence until the rapidfire sledgehammer blows he intended to impose took shape.

Precisely as his position may’ve implied, the effectiveness of these motions came from their angle of delivery. Throughout a given plunge, over half of 9S’ 15-inch spire of bicep-thick cockmeat was slammed through 2B’s canal up to a nauseating depression of her cervix. Backed equally by the weight of his lower body, the force that it generated, and gravity’s impression overtop them, each one was completed in the blink of an eye—this in spite of the obscene tautness of 2B’s innards and the swollen congestion that their inner lining maintained.

On completion, a guttural *GLORSH* induced by the spluttering displacement of lubrication from the edges of 2B’s cunt and the depression of her cervix by 9S’ glans sounded out at a volume that neither party could ignore.

Had they tried, neither would have succeeded. Whilst 9S was thoroughly elated by the sensation of lust-fattened cuntflesh squirming against the reddened neediness of his cock, the mild distension of 2B’s midsection that accompanied these blows ensured that everything about them—even the raucous sexual noise that they produced—were processed by her at their utmost.

The same held true throughout each retraction of 9S’ cock. As 2B’s folds had been both fucked and chemically-influenced to prefer 9S’ cock, the extent to which they squeezed down on his member after he hilted himself and the amount of suction that they drove against it as he attempted to uproot himself were far obscener than they would’ve been ordinarily. When made to abandon their huddled massaging of his cock with their bloat, her inner walls clung to every inch wrenched from them with a desperate (and unnecessary) need. Right up to his stopping point, flecks of pale-pink canal lining could be seen hugged to whatever stretch of cockflesh he extracted from her. However brief, this suction contributed to intensely messy discharges of cuntsyrup throughout the plunges that followed these retractions as well.

Simply, as each of these wrenches were imposed straight after her cunt was stuffed to the point of distending her midsection, 2B could not help but attend to them. Feeling her innards slurp and quiver around 9S so desperately only to have his length drawn from her so casually blurred her mind with stimulation each time it occurred. Worse still, her innards desperation to continue throating her younger partner’s member and the vehement squirting that accompanied its attempts at doing so forced her sex-addled psyche to contend with one of the ideas that it feared most:

Slowly but surely, having her womanhood pummeled by 9S’ cock was becoming something that her insides genuinely craved.

9S’ perception of the goings-on within 2B had far less significant consequences. In the first place, the extent to which 2B’s body had changed and the extent to which it could change in the future was apparent to him at all times. Signage he had observed since his modification suggested that he had acquired the ability to passively siphon data about her physical condition via contact with her body. Given that the severity of her cunt’s convulsions and its perfect envelopment of his blows had yet to surprise him, accepting this as the truth and ignoring his relative indifference to her cunt’s facilitation felt natural as well.

All the same, he did not simply take these things in stride. Having daydreamed about the sensation of smothering 2B’s assflesh with his crotch whilst driving his cock down through her inner walls to the hilt, every single instance of actual intercourse that he enjoyed with the woman was to him a peerless experience to be cherished above all others.

Faced with an instance of intercourse even better than his last, actually doing so came naturally to him. Without altering the depth and pace of his plunges, he effortlessly applied some of the energy welled within him into his left arm. After a swift peeling of his palm off of 2B’s hip, he viciously swung his limb inward to slap his palm against the wobbling edge of her left buttock.

As soon as the moist *CLOPP!* created by his palm’s impact began rippling through the air, he also spoke out to provide context for his actions…

Incidentally, though, a strained coo from 2B rippled out into the air before his voice could reach it.

“Mmmnghh~!”

“Haha, I keep telling you, 2B! Your fat ass was designed to take beatings like this!” 9S exclaimed, grinning. “It’s always the same; no matter how much energy I put into jerking off with your cunt, all of the wobbly meat you’ve got back here absorbs it perfectly!”

“I’m not driving myself as deep as I am just because of how much your cunt is squirming against my cock, y’know. If I didn’t put in at least this much effort, I don’t think I’d be able to stir you up on the inside much at all!”

Suddenly forced to contend with the stinging pleasure created as 9S’ hand glanced off the edge of her ass and the gut-wrenching bliss punched in and out of her folds, 2B at last had an excuse to succumb to stimulation and slip into a state of squealing and squirting ‘more appropriate’ for her position.

As usual, though, she persisted as herself—

Rejecting the pleasure that 9S’ cock was creating inside of her was impossible. On the hand, holding onto herself as her folds were pummelled felt just rewarding enough for her to bother with it.

“I-I don’t know m-muughh~ much about how human w-women view such comments, but c-commenting on m-my rear that now of a-all times i-isn’t very polite 9—hoouugh♥♥—S.” she exhaled, words occasionally distorted by the pleasure surging through her cunt. “I-I’d a-appreciate it if you’d r-refrain from slapping i-it so hard as—hii~!!—well! M-My body is troublesome enough a-as it is without your c-creating new bruises on it!”

Though the delivery of her rebuttal often wavered, 2B’s investment in these utterances couldn’t have been more significant. On top of her having to produce them at a volume that overwhelmed the rhythmic *CLAPP-CLOPP-CLAPP* that 9S’ strikes against her rear pushed through the air, uttering them as she had required active moderation of her capacity for speech (lest she begin slurring and groaning in spite of herself).

Significant in her case did not equate to whole-hearted, however. By default, her deference could _only_ be half-hearted; no matter her beliefs or preferences, both her cunt and the corrupted ‘root’ of her psyche desired nothing more than for 9S to continue objectifying her with his words and actions.

In spite of their wordlessness, these parts of her body spoke louder than her mouth ever could.

“I dunno, 2B. It seems to me like you might like it a lot more than you think.” 9S started, tone projecting a familiar faux ignorance. “But, hey, I could always be wrong. How about we double check…”

*PLORTT♥~*

*CLAPP!*

In sequence, 9S produced his most cutting thrust yet, and directly afterwards slapped his left hand into a held impression against the edge of 2B’s ass. Making certain to lean into both efforts, the former created a peach-colored hand print across 2B’s buttocks whilst the latter pushed her abdominals’ distension with cockmeat up to half the length of a baseball-bat.

Subsequently, 2B lost control of herself yet again. Whilst her jaw was drawn slack, the full length of her vaginal canal collapsed into a crushing contraction against 9S’ cock amidst a heavy eruption of gluey cuntsyrup, and her most vulgar exclamations yet burst from her throat at an ear-piercing volume.

“F-FUCKKKK♥!!! F-FUCKFUCKFUCKKKK~!” she groaned. “I-I’m gonna cum!! I-it s-sitngs so much i-I’m gonna cum ♥!”

Significant as this reaction was coming from 2B, 9S’ response to it consisted of a grin, and the release of an airy exhalation plated atop his tongue seconds prior.

“Guess that settles that, huh? You like it plenty, **fat ass.** It only took us a couple centuries of hanging around each other to figure it out.” he continued, chuckling. “Since you like it so much, I’ll do it a bunch more juuuuust for you, 2B.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll even be able to get you to cum again by the time I do!”

Concrete a listener as 2B believed herself to be, none of 9S’ words reached her ears as anything other than garbled noise.

Their meaning, however, was completely clear to her. When his cock was at last drawn out of its latest hilt depth depression through her folds, another thrust just like it was punched down into her guts.

These things together could only mean one thing:

9S’ domination of her body was going to continue.

-

**PRODUCT**

Androids were not supposed to be susceptible to stimulation. While modeled in the image of humanity, 2B’s belief in her identity as an android in turn necessitated that she view herself as being incapable of such things. That stimuli capable of muddling one’s sense of self existed was not something that she could deny, but as she couldn’t experience it herself, the concept itself was valueless to her.

But not anymore.

At some point throughout 9S’ most recent goring of her cunt into a spread, squirting mess, she had lost her grip on the emotionless android that she was supposed to be. She was not sputtering helplessly, nor was she squealing out the mixed sexual obscenities that 9S sometimes demanded of her volitionally, but she knew. She had let go of herself, and had embraced something else in exchange.

This ‘thing’ was 9S’ cock. The squirming wriggle of its turgid blood vessels against her clamoring canal walls; its glans’ repeated blurting of precum against her cervix; the hooked, flesh-reddening distensions it inflated at her midsection; the collision of the testicles below it against the face of her cunt; there seemed to be no end to the pleasure that it offered.

At first, dwelling on these pleasures was all that she could do. Doing more felt too effortful—too distracting from the throbbing monstrosity brutalizing her folds.

Soon enough, though, a haze overtook her: one just thin enough for her to think through.

“I’m being filled with semen again. My insides stroked and…they pleasured 9S’ phallus until he released again. “I am supposed to be his superior, yet my body has seen fit to submit everything to him again.”

“It does feel…nicer this time, I suppose. I’m sure the bruising on my stomach will remain visible for some time, but I can no longer say I dislike the feeling of his cock tenting my insides.”

“Perhaps it will be the same with everything else? Perhaps if I just experience it enough, I’ll—”

Without a moment’s notice, everything was ended by a surge. Directly following the delivery of a thrust that pulverized the exterior of her cervix into a submissive dilation, a pressurized surge of 9S’ semen directly into her uterus forced her from her state of drooling introspection into one firmly grounded within reality.

This much was to be expected. As was always the case for 9S’ orgasms, the first rope of nut that was pushed up through his urethra set a standard for every other drop of cum that left his balls. Thickened past the extent of a mixture of jellied paste or resin into a consistency of melted clay just light enough to ‘run’ as a fluid, the semen contained within this strand presented all of the ‘gains’ made by his reproductive organs throughout the preceding few months. Utterly laden with both nutrients and fabricated genetic material, the fact that its writhing remained invisible to the naked eye (as opposed to being visible in the strand itself and squirming to the touch) was a small miracle.

In spite of its muddy thickness, most every drop of this strand was blasted through the dilation of 2B’s cervix into a dense ‘pooling’ against the roof of her uterus. As a consequence of the position that 9S had demanded she assume and his own position overtop her, the opposing walls of her uterine lining were spared immediate contact with the boiling glut whilst the peak of her babymaker endured the bulk of it. Carried by a pressure partly mechanical in nature, even the sludge’s own adhesive qualities failed to alter the trajectory of its delivery. From beginning to end, the ruler-length strand's entirety was packed against itself in a width-wise smear across the organ’s roof.

To a point, every rope of seed that came behind it was doled out similarly. Though the second-by-second compilation of off-white jizz-smears across the peak of 2B’s womb did eventually result in the rest of her uterus coming into contact with 9S’ cum, the angle from which semen was repeatedly dumped into her womb never changed. One by one, the contents of these nastily-dense threads were blasted against the same organ-fattening pool of nut until over half of its volume was obscured within a sea of lumpy reproductive peat.

Throughout, 2B’s thoughts were completely consumed by the sensations that 9S’ seed introduced into her innards. 

None of it was new to her; if at any point she closed her eyes, imagining the feeling of his sperm wriggling against the inside of her stomach or uterus was as easy as breathing for her. However, relative to the degree to which her body had learned to love the sensation of virile warmth swelling her holes, this familiarity counted for very little.

Dwelling on the sensation of semen being pumped inside her and personally exacerbating its impact on her mind was not merely her body’s preference, but its _disposition—_

And a very potent one at that.

“I-It’s even....t-thicker than usual. I-If I allow myself to concentrate too hard for even a second, the swarming of all the cells inside of it will make me cum even more.” she mused. “H-How hot it is...h-how heavy it is...it’s done something to my internals. I-I can't speak or act properly: all I can do is m-moan and visualize my own uterus getting fattened with cum…”

“I-It’s not usually like this, is it? No...how could it be? Every time he b-blows a load inside me, it gets worse. I start to love it, and everything about getting it even more. Even if I can stop myself from thinking it, I-I can tell it’s the only thing my body cares about...”

“I don’t even know…”

“I-If it’s bad anymore…”

Constantly taxed by the bloating of her uterus, 2B’s consciousness eventually lost track of the ‘goings-on’ with 9S’ orgasm. Beyond what she measured to be its halfway point, everything concerning it became a satisfying blur of heat and stimulation too potent for her to even begin dissecting.

Incidentally, this period was also the one wherein 9S’ orgasm reached its peak in quality. Only seconds after her loss of insight, the ejective convulsions that rippled through the upper half of his length became strong enough to mildly compress fractions of his cock as semen slithered through it. Owed to an occasional increase in the volume of semen blurted against the face of her cervix, each one of these convulsions was always accompanied by a chunked caking of excess nut against the back end of her vaginal canal.

In spite of this, the swelling of her womb actually proceeded at a faster pace as a result of this. However much semen was lost to the back of her vaginal canal, as much if not more was packed into the double-thick strands lazily compressed through her cervix. Each fat enough to create individual *GLORPS* as their contents were added to the basin within 2B’s womb, the difference between them and the threads that had come before them could be marked audibly (if either of the pair concerned actually cared to determine as much).

  
Neither did; while 2B abstained for a lack of capacity, 9S did so out of a lack of interest. In both cases, focusing on their own stimulation and in some way dwelling on the consequences of 9S’ orgasm were far too enjoyable for them to simply abandon.

In particular, 9S wouldn’t have traded his current activities for the world. Still ‘plugged in’ to the state of 2B’s frame, his ability to know that his seed had fattened her womb past its natural volume towards a familiar, melon-sized squishiness was almost as satisfying to him as his actual release.

For him, the only thing that separated his accomplishment from perfection was the fact that no ovum were present for this volume of seed to inseminate. Her cervix’s gulping of cockjuice into its midst would eventually _simulate_ a wobbly pregnancy at her midsection, but his opinion was such that these things couldn’t possibly be compared.

To achieve the real thing, 2B would have to be altered further: both internally and externally.

Fortunately, moving further with her was what the boy had planned from the start.

“Hahhhhh~—Fuck that’s nice!” 9S exhaled, happily. “Both your cunt and womb ended up draining way more cum out of me this time, too.” 9S exhaled, voice at last thinned by sexual exertion. “Obviously I already knew what your body was going to enjoy most, but hopefully you can move past the idea that you hate stuff like this now.”

“I mean, you can hang onto it if you want, but it’s hard for me to believe you when your insides are doing everything they can to suck more cum out of me. Besides, if we agree, we can try to figure out stuff that’s a lot more fun in the future…”

“Like the **_other_** stuff you enjoy.

Not unlike his past few utterances, 9S’ latest did not receive an answer from 2B.

Unlike them, however, she actually heard it. Through the stinging bloat that had appeared within her stomach; the livid fluttering of her heart; she heard every word that left his mouth…

Because she wanted to.


End file.
